A Heroine's Legacy
by Rye-bread
Summary: In "A Box Of Cuddlebuddies",Kim Possible was entombed alive by Tara,who then married Ron. In "Family Legacy", Kim come forth a murderous Undead, swearing eternal vengeance on the children of her two former friends. But what if she could find redemption?
1. Chapter 1: Aunt Kim

Ole Ryebread just has a thing for sequels based on others' fic's-especially those of one of my favorite fan-authors, CaptainKodak. I've already got one based on this particular story-but I just couldn't leave well enough alone.

Some details: I include excerpts from the two stories with the both the authors' permission. The quote by Buddha is from-are you ready-Punjab, Daddy Warbuck's Hindi butler in the movie Little Orphan Annie. Hachiman is the Shinto god of war and of the samurai. and is mentioned in Wikipedia

Ron Possible's two prayers at his grandmother Tara's graveside: "Hear o Israel..." This of course is the Jewish Shema, the prelude to the Ten Commandments. And the other: "Our Father Who are in Heaven..." This of course is the Christian Lord's Prayer, that Jesus Christ taught to His Disciples.

The characters are from the Disney's Kim Possible, created by Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley.

Yoriko as Sensei of Yamanuchi is found in Family Legacy by daccu65

Yoriko's last name-Kansumi-is by CaptainKodak, from his fic, Lotus Bloom, and is used with permission.

In A Box Of Cuddlebuddies by CaptainKodak, we saw Kim Possible entombed alive by Tara, who then married Ron.

In Family Legacy by daccu65, we saw Kim come forth a murderous Undead, swearing eternal vengeance on the children of her two former friends.

But what if she had a chance at redemption?

From _**A BOX OF CUDDLEBUDDIES**_ by CaptainKodak:

_Kim yelped then struggled against her bonds. She rolled back and forth then pulled herself up to pull the tape from her mouth. "Tara? What are you doing? Is this some type of sick joke?"_

_Tara simply turned and started to climb up the ladder. "No K, no sick joke. Just justice."_

_Kim shook her head. "Justice?"_

_Tara nodded. "You don't deserve Ron. He deserves someone who will love him and never leave him. You Kim. I know you. Maybe not now, maybe not tomorrow, but I know in the future, some hottie or smottie will come along and Ron, your hero will turn into plain old Ron again. And then Kim, you would break his heart and probably not even know or care that you are doing so. So, I am making sure you never hurt him." Tara continued to climb up the ladder. She pulled the ladder out of the hole and laid it to the side. _

_Kim began to scream. "Tara, I LOVE RON. I would NEVER do that. Please Tara, let me go!"_

_Tara picked up the crowbar and began to lever the concrete lid back onto the top of the hole. Kim screamed._

"_Please Tara NO! For the love of GOD NO!"_

_Tara stopped for a moment then spoke as she finished levering the lid over the hole. Just as she pushed it shut she called down. "NO Kim, not for the love of God, but the love of Ron."_

_With a final shove Tara pushed the lid over the hole. A wailing scream came from the hole. "NOOOoooooo…."_

_Tara stood as the lid settled on top of the cistern. Picking up the ladder she put it back in its place under the porch. Then she put up the crowbar. She cleaned up the area and raked the dirt back around the cap. The men would fill the hole over the cistern cap with 3 inches of concrete on Monday morning. She doubted that they would hear anything. Tara smiled as she skipped into her home. She had a little more work to do._

from _**FAMILY LEGACY**_ by daccu65

_Well, coach," Lon mused. "I've noticed that dad's really close to the Possible Family, all four of them. I don't think that a week goes by without a visit from Jim, Tim, or their parents. Not only that but dad and Mr. Mankey dress up as a unicorn every Halloween and help out at the medical center's fund raiser."_

"_You realize, of course, that Jim and Tim Possible had an older sister?" Barkin prompted._

"_Yes, coach. I think her name was Kim and she was the same age as my parents. She was a teenage hero and vanished after graduating from Middleton High. We celebrate Hero's Day in her honor."_

"_Almost correct," the coach smiled at the boy. "Son, your father won't mention this, but Hero's day isn't celebrated in Kim Possible's honor, it's celebrated in Team Possible's honor. Team Possible consisted of Kim Possible and your father."_

"_Dad was a teenage hero?" Lon gasped._

"_Not for very long," Coach Barkin explained. "When Team Possible started going up against the big villains, your father followed Kim. He was more a sidekick than anything else but he refused to let her go alone. Your father kept getting more and more capable as time went by, becoming her invaluable assistant by the time they graduated. Hero's Day is celebrated on the anniversary that the two of them derailed Dr. Drakken's most violent attempt to take over the world; the night of their junior prom."_

"_Dad was involved with that?" Lon asked._

"_Not only involved," Steve Barkin assured him. "He was instrumental. He stepped up in another way that night, as well. Kim Possible and your father had been inseparable friends since they had been four years old. On that night, Ron Stoppable became her boyfriend."_

"_You're saying that my father dated Kim Possible?" Lon gawked. "I can't believe it."_

"_Believe it, son," the coach smiled. "I've seen plenty of teen couples get together. Those two were clearly on their way to the altar. That's why your father doesn't talk much about her at home. He's not about to make his wife feel that he's comparing the two of them."_

"_So dad and the Possibles?" Lon asked._

"_The Possible family was ready to welcome your father into their family. Jim and Tim looked at him as a big brother and James and Anne considered him a son." The big man chuckled. "There was an impressive betting pool for when he was going to propose. My bet was June 28th, between their sophomore and junior years of college."_

"_But she vanished after graduation." Lon's words were more a statement than a question._

"_From appearances, it looks like she went swimming up at Lake Middleton one day that summer, drowned and vanished." Steve Barkin told his listener. "Personally, I don't believe it. She was too strong of a swimmer and the lake isn't that big. If she had drowned, the authorities wold have found her body when they dragged the lake. No, I think that one of her enemies caught up to her, but that's just my opinion."_

"_So how did mom and dad get together?" Lon asked._

"_Your mother had been fond of your father since they were sophomores. She hid it well, but not well enough that a vice-principal, who had over ten years dealing with teenagers, couldn't spot it. Back then, your father really wasn't into the dating thing and almost everybody assumed that he and Possible were an item, so your mother didn't really make her feelings known. After Possible vanished, she was there for your father."_

"_She was there as a friend," Barkin added, upon seeing the boy's odd expression. "It wasn't like she moved on him the moment Possible was out of the picture. That friendship turned into something more, just like it had between Possible and your father. The fact that you're sitting here is a testament to how far that friendship evolved."_

"_Dad's consultant missions?" The boy prompted._

"_Are missions similar to those he took on with Possible," Coach Barkin confirmed. "Most of them involve retrieving stolen items or rescuing people. Occasionally, they turn violent. Son, your father doesn't talk much about it but there aren't too many people who can stand up against him in a fight. This is another legacy of his time with Possible."_

"_Dad's a hero?" Lon Stoppable had a hard time coming to grips with the concept._

"_He's been a hero for a long time, young man. Time has taught him to keep a low profile about it but never forget the lesson you've learned today. Looks can be deceiving."_

_Lon arrived home earlier than his siblings did that night. His sister was visiting a couple of friends, an activity that seemed to consist of sitting with their heads together, pointing, and giggling. His brother was at basketball practice. Since his father was still at work, this gave him a few minutes to talk, alone, with his mother. He was determined to obtain some confirmation to what Coach Barkin had told him, so after the usual pleasantries, with his mother asking how his day went and if he spoke to Lorrie, he asked her about Kim Possible._

"_Mom," he said. "I was talking to Coach Barkin today. He said that you were friends with Kim Possible, back when you were in high school. Is this true?"_

"_Yes, we were friends," Tara Stoppable replied, looking up from the kitchen sink and out the window, into the back yard. "She was the captain of the cheerleading squad and Liz Mankey and I were on the squad; GO! MADDOGS…GO, GO MADDAWGS!" The middle aged woman ended her sentence with a cheer still heard around Middleton High._

"_Coach B says that she knew dad pretty well, too." Lon smiled at his mother's antics._

_The question wiped the smile off of Tara's face. "Yeah," she said. "Your father was the squad mascot until our senior year. I was probably closer to Kim than most of the girls on the squad, most of the girls in the school. Her running off to fight supervillains and rescue people meant that she didn't have time for many friends. One of her best friends was Monique Jenkins."_

"_Monique Jenkins…" Lon mused. "That name sounds famil…WAIT! Is she the famous fashion designer?"_

"_None other," Tara confirmed. "Why do you think Middleton High's cheerleaders always have the badical uniforms? Anyway, she and Kim were close, but Kim's closest friend was Ron Stoppable."_

"_Dad?"_

"_Yes, the two of them had been friends since before kindergarten. When she opened her babysitting website, and a mistake started her heroine career, Ron was right there with her. He really didn't have any business going; he was a late bloomer and afraid of just about everything, but he forced himself to go along." She took a deep breath and favored her oldest son with a wistful smile. "I think that that's what initially attracted me to him; the fact that he would swallow his fears and go someplace that he really shouldn't, just for a friend."_

"_Coach Barkin says that the two of them…became something more," Lon offered, tentatively._

"_Yes, they did," now Tara's smile had grown a little sadder. "On the night of our junior prom, what became known as Hero's Day. I think that the two of them were the happiest that they had ever been for the next fifteen months. I really feel sorry for the way it had to end, but I think that it turned out the best for your father."_

"_What do you mean?" Lon asked. "Kim wouldn't have been a good wife for him?"_

"_No, she wouldn't have." Tara insisted. "But I'm sure that they would have married." Tara composed her thoughts, looking out the window and into the back yard again, before turning around, leaning against the counter and catching her son's eyes with hers. "You see, Kim Possible never really appreciated your father as an individual. She valued the help he always gave her and later she cherished it. She loved how he made her better, how he was always supportive but I don't think she ever really loved Ron Stoppable for being Ron Stoppable."_

"_I don't want to speak ill of the dead," she continued, turning around, glancing into the back yard again and returning to her work. "But I don't think that your father would have been as happy with her as he is with me. I'm sorry that she died, but I'm happy with the way his life, and mine, turned out."_

"_Uh…Kim, my sister," Lon started, tentatively._

"_Is named after Kim Possible," Tara confirmed. "I wasn't too happy about it, at first. Here's a little advice about girls, son, girlfriends and wives don't like being reminded about former girlfriends. Still, when I saw how happy her name made the Possibles, I changed my mind. I'll never forget Dr. Anne Possible thanking me, with tears in her eyes, telling me how much she appreciated us making sure that there would be a Kim Stoppable, even if she wasn't her daughter."_

"_So you think she's dead?" Lon asked. "Coach Barkin says that he thinks one of her enemies finally caught up to her but without a body, how can anybody be sure?"_

"_I'm certain, dear," Tara answered. "If Kim Possible wasn't resting peacefully, I'm sure she would have found away to let somebody know."_

_Lon spent most of the rest of the afternoon putting the finishing touches on the Halloween decorations. Lon didn't know if he had inherited the trait from his father, or had learned it during his childhood, but he and his father both loved to go all out on holidays. The trees in the front yard were festooned with fake cobwebs, a scarecrow stood guard on the front porch, and three jack-o-lanterns, one carved by each Stoppable child, were lined up along the sidewalk. Of course, the windows were full of the typical paper, cut-out decorations. Ron stoppable arrived home while his oldest son was admiring his handiwork._

"_Looking good this year," Ron complimented the boy._

"_Yeah, dad, thanks for helping with the cobwebs on the trees."_

"_No big. Is your mother home?"_

"_Yeah, I think she's got everything ready for you in the kitchen."_

"_Badical!"_

_Lon smiled as his father walked into the house. While his mother might assemble the ingredients, his father usually did the cooking. When it came to food, the three Stoppable children were hopelessly spoiled._

_After homework and the dinner dishes were finished, the Stoppables found their way to the driveway too shoot baskets. Ron had put the hoop and flood lights in, shortly after his youngest son showed an interest in the sport, in middle school. Kim Stoppable also played the sport and the two youngest Stoppables quickly showed their elders some true skill. During the game, Lon excused himself to empty the trash. The teenager hauled the garbage to the large bins, which they kept in the shed. Knowing that his mother would be distracted by the game in the driveway, the boy stopped by the cistern._

_He placed his ear on the lid but couldn't hear nor feel anything. Still curious, he thumped the lid several times. He continued to listen for a short time, not hearing anything except his own heartbeat. The boy sighed, wondering if he should give up his plan to break the seal. Yet, just before his hand left the lid, he felt a flurry of scrapping on the other side. He dropped to a knee, next to the cover, and deliberately knocked three times on the concrete. The scratching stopped, then Lon felt three, distinct knocks._

_The teen fell back, shocked. Mustering his courage, he crept back to the cistern and, almost against his will, lowered his ear to the cover._

"_Lon!" His mother's shout nearly drew a scream out of him. As it was, he wound up on his backside, once again. "Are you alright out there?"_

_Tara found a dark corner to conceal herself and waited, while the intruder reached the top of the stairs and started to descend. Tara gasped when the intruder appeared. It wasn't the skeletal limbs or the horrid reek that tore the expression of shocked horror from Tara Stoppable; it was the handcuffs on the figure's ankles and wrists._

"_Y-you can't be…" Tara gasped._

"_How long!" The figure demanded, in a gurgling hiss. "How long have I been in there?"_

_Tara couldn't speak, couldn't move, as the figure closed on her._

"_You KILLED me Tara," it shrieked, shambling across the living room. "I thought I had escaped, so I went home and what did I find? My room wasn't my room anymore and I saw THIS," here, the figure pointed to its face. "In the mirror. I didn't escape, did I? YOU KILLED ME, TARA! YOU TOOK MY LIFE SO I'M GOING TO TAKE YOURS!"_

_Tara Stoppable could only scream as a cold, muddy, skeletal hand clamped onto her throat._

_Ron Stoppable and just reached his front door when he heard his wife's scream. Never, in close to thirty years of being first a sidekick, then a hero, had anybody threatened his family or his home. He charged through the door, summoning the Lotus Blade. He willed the blade into its Bo form as he ran through the den. His years of facing the bad guys meant that he didn't hesitate when confronted with the impossible sight before him._

"_Get away from my wife!" He snarled, twirling his weapon in an up-strike against the hand holding his wife's throat. The weapon struck, with the sound of wood striking bone, forcing the assailant to release Tara. Ron kept the weapon moving, landing another up-strike, this time on his opponent's bony chin. The…whatever it was…staggered backwards, allowing Ron to interpose himself between it and his wife. Ron set himself and Tara started to cry, hysterically._

"_Wife?" The figure demanded, in a hideous voice. "You married Tara? YOU MARRIED MY MURDERER? Ron, how could you betray me like that?"_

_Ron's training kicked in. Despite the fact that he was facing some sort of reeking, skeletal…thing, his mind started to analyze what his senses were picking up. The figure in front of him was mostly skeletal, with very little flesh. Yet, the rags clinging to the figure might have once been….capris and a crop top? The scalp had a few strands of hair. Most of the hair was covered with mud but a few hairs floated free. These were red. This…thing knew both him and Tara and considered his marriage to be a betrayal. The thing in front of him could only be…._

"_Kim?" He half gasped, half sobbed._

"_Ron, how could you?" The thing's horrid voice sounded like it was sobbing, as well. "I loved you! We were supposed to be together forever! Tara killed me, Ron! Why did you marry her? Didn't I make you happy?"_

"_I…didn't…know…" Ron stammered, feeling like a sixteen-year old sidekick again. "Tara, what's happening?"_

_Tara Stoppable, however, wasn't answering. She was huddled against the wall with tears pouring from her eyes. Ron continued his stand off against…what had once been Kim. None of the three knew what to do next. Suddenly, a sixteen-year old boy, in a gorilla costume, burst into the room._

"_Mom, Dad!" Lon shouted. "What's going on he…." The boy's eyes flew wide when he saw what he father was facing._

"_Mom, Dad?" Kim snarled. "You had a child? While I was rotting in that pit, you married and had a child?" The…thing…glared at Lon for a heart-stopping minute. "That wasn't a boys room I was in," it hissed. "So you must have a daughter, as well. So this was the plan, Tara? You gave me a slow death and torment while you had a life and a family? NO MORE! It's time for justice! I'll take from you what you robbed from me! I'll take your life, I'll take your children!"_

_When the monster that had once been his girlfriend surged forward again, Ron was shocked out of his inaction. While he was still stunned by what was in front of him, while he still didn't really know what was happening, one thing was certain._

_Nobody threatened Ron Stoppable's family!_

_As the skeletal hands reached for his oldest son, Ron struck them away._

"_Don't do this, Ron!" Kim snarled at him. "She did this! I don't have anything against you! I'll take from her what she took from me and then I'll go. Don't stop my revenge!"_

"_I can't let this happen," Ron told her in a pained, serious voice. "I don't know what happened, I don't know why you're here, but Tara's my wife and Lon's my son. I won't let anything happen to them while I'm still alive to prevent it."_

"_That can be remedied, Ron," it hissed back. "If you throw in with…her…then so be it! I'll take her husband from her, as well!" With a wild shriek, the thing threw itself upon the middle-aged man. Ron willed the Lotus Blade into sword form and met her charge head on._

_For the next several minutes, pandemonium raged in the Stoppables' living room as the two combatants tore at each other. The outcome was never really in doubt. While the…thing…that Kim had become was savage and strong, it was no longer the skilled, world saving heroine. Ron Stoppable was no longer the bumbling sidekick, but a master of Tai Shen Pek Kwar, the wielder of the MMP and a man whose family was under threat. The MMP, a force that existed to fight evil, reacted to the monster facing him. Ron took his hits; he was bloodied and battered, but soon the creature that had once been Kim Possible lay dismembered in the Stoppables' living room._

"_Tara," Ron tried to keep his voice gentle, despite his pain and exhaustion. "What happened here? What happened to Kim?"_

"_Uh, dad?" Lon interrupted, pointing at Kim's remains. Ron turned to find the broken bones and tattered flesh slithering across the floor, slowly recombining to form the monster, once again._

"_You can't win, Ron," the skull hissed at him. "I'm already dead. You can't kill me. I'll finish you, then your family will be next!"_

"_What can I do," Ron stammered._

"_Put her back in the cistern!" Tara moaned. "It held her this long…wait! She escaped! That won't work!"_

"_It's my fault!" Lon wailed. "I opened the cistern! I thought I heard something inside, so I opened it up to let it out. I'm the reason she escaped."_

"_Quiet!" Ron roared, snapping back into mission mode. "Lon, go open the cover. Tara, go get a tarp, a canvas bag, anything."_

_The next several minutes seemed to drag on forever. The three Stoppables gathered Kim's remains, which struggled feebly, and returned them to the cistern. Shortly before the two younger Stoppables were supposed to return home, Ron and Lon finished re-mortaring the seal. Ron placed a broom, a rag and a mop in his oldest son's hands and pointed the boy at the living room. With his son out of the way, Ron Stoppable led his wife to the den, sat her down, and looked her in the eye._

"_Tara," he said, his voice and expression devoid of the love and warmth they usually conveyed. "Start explaining."_

"_So that's why I have to live here?" Ron Possible Jr. asked his grandmother. "There's some sort of undead creature somewhere under the back yard?"_

"_Yes, Ronnie," the old, blonde woman told him. She flinched, reliving, with her grandson, the moment she had lived with her husband and oldest son those many years ago; the moment that, in their eyes, she turned from a loved, cherished family member to a cold-blooded killer. "After that night, your grandfather rented some earthmoving equipment and built up a raised mound in the back yard, then built a gazebo on top of it. The gazebo conceals a shaft that leads down to the old cistern. You may wonder why the gazebo is made of steel, not wood. It's sturdy enough to act as a brace, in case you ever need to open the cistern."_

"_But, what happened after grandpa built the gazebo?" Ron asked. "What happened between the two of you?"_

"_In a way, Kim got her revenge," Tara replied, looking at the floor. "I lost my husband and my oldest son that night. Ron got the full confession out of me and promptly moved out of our room. He made me tell him how I had tricked Kim; incapacitated her with her own knockout gas and sealed her in the cistern. He didn't report me to the authorities, since he didn't want to deprive our children of a…somewhat normal…family life but he never forgave me. He only touched me three times after that night. Those three times were when we danced at each of our children's weddings. Your uncle Lon became very cold towards me. He left for college the year after that and never came back. Oh, he would visit for a day or two but he always had some sort of internship, lecture or study session. We never told your Uncle Roy or your mother."_

"_Grandma," Ron Possible called upon his Yamanouchi training and forced himself to confront his own grandmother. "Why did you do it? Why did you kill her?"_

"_I've tried to come to grips with that, for years," Tara Stoppable visibly deflated. "I'm not making any excuses, I just ask that you take a moment to look at the situation from my point of view. There was an incident, early in high school, where your grandfather saved the cheer squad from a mutant. After that, I started to pay attention to him. I saw what he went through as Kim's sidekick and I saw how little Kim seemed to appreciate his sacrifices. I could also tell that he was in love with her, even though he didn't realize it himself."_

"_I cheered, along with most of the rest of the school, when they got together," Tara continued, now able to meet her grandson's eyes. "But over time, I remembered how quickly a hottie would turn her away from him. Your grandfather was a good man but he wasn't golden. Sooner or later, she was going to abandon him and leave him alone and broken hearted. I owed him for saving me, so I couldn't let that happen. To be honest, I didn't care if I wound up with him. There were other girls; your Sensei Yori was interested in him, as well as a girl named Zita. Neither one would have crushed him the way that Kim would have."_

"_I was wrong, Ron," she admitted. "I shouldn't have done what I did but by the time I realized it, weeks had passed."_

"_My great grandparents Possible?" Ron asked. "Did you ever tell them?"_

"_No," Tara shook her head. "That's one of the reasons your grandfather didn't divorce me, he didn't want to make them suspicious and he didn't want them to find out the truth. He wanted them to be able to hold onto the hope that their daughter had died a quick, painless death." She sighed. "Ronnie, your great grandparents had as happy a life, after losing their daughter, that they could. Their son, Tim, named his oldest son after Ron and, with all the time we spent with the Possibles, I should have realized that he would fall for my daughter. Anne Possible was delighted when your parents married. She had expected a Kim and Ron wedding but hadn't expected it to be Kim Stoppable marrying Ron Possible."_

_Tara grew serious again, "after that night, your father went to Japan. I think that he returned to the school that he had visited in high school. I don't know what happens there but I know that your Uncle Roy spent every summer, during his high school years, at the school. Your grandfather told me that every generation, Yamanouchi would prepare someone to face Kim, if she should ever get out. Your Uncle Roy was the…guardian…for his generation and you are for yours."_

"_I don't know all of the details," She admitted. "But you'll find that the University of Middleton will accept your credits from the Japanese school. You'll be able to finish your education here, in Middleton. You'll be able to find a good job here, as well." The elderly woman's gaze dropped back to the floor. "This is now your prison, Ronnie. This very home where I was so happy growing up, where I was so happy raising my children, is now your prison. You have to stay here, in case she ever escapes."_

"_Grandma, is she still…down there?" Ron asked._

"_Yes," Tara choked back a sob. "There's something about this house you need to know. Back when the cistern was built, before there was running water, someone decided they didn't want to go outside and pump water. They built a channel from the cistern, to a small tank just below the basement's floor level. There used to be a pump in a small room, in the corner of the basement. The pump is long gone; there's just an empty pipe running down to the tank. Your grandfather knew about it and started to go down to that room. He was able to talk to…her."_

"_I eavesdropped on several of their conversations," Tara admitted. "Your grandfather begged her to tell him what he needed to do, so that she could find her peace. He offered to jump into the cistern and join her for eternity, if she would leave the rest of us alone. He offered to drag me in there, as well, if she would just leave our children alone. She wouldn't have anything to do with his offers. She howled and screamed that she wouldn't rest until she took everything from me that I had taken from her."_

"_After your grandfather died, I locked up the pump room," Tara continued. "But when Yamanouchi accepted you, I had to see if she was still…active. I went to the pump room and called her name into the pipe. She answered. Since then, I've gone down there once a year to make sure that she's still…there." Tara wiped her eyes. "She hasn't forgotten and she hasn't forgiven."_

_The two sat for several minutes, lost in thought. Finally, Tara composed herself._

"_Very well, let's finish this," She said, in a businesslike manner. "Along with my will, you will find the keys to a safe deposit box in the envelope. The safe deposit box contains, among other things, my full confession. If the public ever becomes aware of Kim's condition, this confession will explain that happened. I've updated it every year, as events warrant. Now," here, the matriarch shuddered. "I think it's time for me to have my yearly conversation with her. I want you to listen in, so that you know how serious this is."_

_With that, Tara led her grandson to the basement._

_Fifteen minutes later, the two returned to the living room. Ron was visibly shaken. He had never heard such anger. He couldn't believe that a mere voice could convey such hatred and evil as he had just experienced. He slumped, momentarily, then squared his shoulders. This was his duty; to guard the rest of the world from what Kim Possible had become._

"_I'm so sorry, Ronnie," Tara apologized, yet again. "But it has to be this way. I know that your grandfather had some special…power, or influence and that the Japanese School has something to do with it. You and your Uncle Roy are the only ones who can stand against her, should she escape. He's spent his life in Middleton, ready to face her if he needs to do so. Now, it's you turn. I really wish that I could make it easier but I can't. This is your family legacy."_

_**A HEROINE'S LEGACY**_

_**chpt. 1**_

_**AUNT KIM**_

Ron Possible, Jr. attended his grandmother Tara Stoppable as she lay dying. "Grandma, I just can't leave her there. Her blood runs in my veins as much as yours and Grandpa's blood. That's two family traditions of heroism. I can't believe that someone who was as committed to missions and serving people as Kim Possible is utterly beyond redemption. I know you think I'm being entirely impractical, but I've got to try."

A week later, he stood by her casket after the brief service at the cemetery.

Several hours went by. The cemetery groundskeeper respectfully approached. "Mr. Possible, it's customary us to wait for the family to leave before we inter the casket. But if we wait, I'll have to pay a considerable amount of overtime pay to my crew and the backhoe operator."

"You won't mind if I stay, will you? It's symbolic."

"Most people find it too sad to see their loved one actually covered with earth," said the groundskeeper.

"It's been going on since the first people," said Ron. "There's lots of sadness in the world."

The groundskeeper shrugged. Obviously, the young man would not be deterred. He directed his crew to commence with the completion of the burial.

Ron bowed his head. "Hear, oh Israel, the Lord our God is one Lord. Our Father, Who are in Heaven, Hallowed by Thy Name." And so he affirmed the two faith traditions of which he was a part. He would need all the spiritual strength he could muster if he was to follow through with what he hoped to accomplish. _Your jealousy took an innocent girl and changed her into a hideous demonic creature, Grandma. This is my family legacy, as you said. But it's also my legacy to try and undo it. As I'm burying you, I've got to dig up your friend...my aunt...Kim Possible._

He discussed his plan much with the Sensei of Yamanouchi, Yoriko Kansumi-sama.

"The Compassionate Buddha once said that a child without courage is like a night without stars. Your courage is like a thousand constellations, Possible-san. May your God, the Lord Adonai, and His Son, the Lord Christ, strengthen you. And may Hachiman, the Protector Nihon, and of Yamanouchi, be a shield to all whom you love."

A week later, Ron went downstairs to the pump room. He closed the door behind him. He switched on the bare bulb overhead. He felt queasy-sick with dread. He uncapped the pipe.

A scratching sound was heard.

He knocked three times.

There were three knocks in response, and a harsh grating sound.

He tried to speak but his throat was as dry as sand

And a voice spoke. A voice-it made him weak at the knees. It made him want to run in horror-if he weren't so paralyzed by its sound.

"I'm putting my eye to the pipe. I see you. You're not Tara-or Ron."

He tried to think of the most gruesome words imaginable. Nightmarish. Ghastly. Horrible. Hideous. Horrific. Monstrous. Ghoulish. There was no word sufficient to describe its sound. It was Evil Incarnate.

She...It...could see him. He wanted to vomit or faint.

"You're safe from me," the voice said. "I can't get to you. I'm able to disassemble and reassemble myself. It's an ability inherent to my condition-being undead. I've tried to get through this pipe. My fingers could fit, but not any of my larger bones."

"I...I...I"

"You look like a Stoppable...and a King...and a Possible."

"I'm...Ron Possible. I'm-m...y-your great nephew."

"Let me guess. You're Ron Possible, Jr. Your parents are Ron Possible, Sr., Karen and Tim's son and Kim Stoppable, Tara and Ron's daughter"

"Y-you know the family tree."

"I don't have much else to think about while in my grave here. This is the day of your grandmother's yearly visit. Let me guess. She's dead."

Ron nodded. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.

"I can see you nodding. Cat got your tongue, Ronald?"

He tried clearing his throat, and it caught. The Thing was calling him by name. He wanted to run screaming from the room. He had hardly slept a night since he heard the Voice years ago. No wonder Grandma was how she was. To have this Being existing under one's home.

"Are you religious, Ron?"

"M-my grandfather Ron went to temple pretty regular all his life. Grandma Tara went to church a lot...after..."

"After I got out...and tried to kill her during my few precious hours of freedom."

"And my parents..."

"I asked about you, Ron."

"Yes, I attend church."

"Do you believe in Hell, Ron?"

"I don't know. I think I do." The surreality. This living monster who was once a breathtakingly beautiful girl...who was once a rescuer, a defender...a heroine.

"You won't blame me if I think your grandmother should be in Hell, do you? For what she did to me?"

"I don't know."

There was a long moment of silence. And it made him all the more unprepared for what happened next.

Her voice erupted in a howl of hatred at a deafening volume. _**"Is that all you can say? 'I-don't-know-I-don'-know!' Ignorant grandson of that ignorant little bitch!"**_

Ron thought he could see the baleful glare of a hideous green eye at the end of the pipe. In his terror, he stumbled backwards and fell. He huddled on the floor for a moment, trying not to weep.

"Pathetic little brat! Did I frighten you! Imagine what it's like for me! **Entombed alive! In the dark!** I screamed my lungs out! I went insane! And I **never died!**"

Ron felt the horror wash over him. He had heard his grandmother's story. Kim's screams for mercy as Tara closed the cement lid to the cistern. But now he could feel what it was for Kim.

**"I haven't slept for sixty years! Or eaten! Or drunk! Sixty years of exhaustion! Hunger! Thirst! I can't rest! I haven't seen the sun since Tara put me here! There's no release! No end! I'll be like this forever!"**

He could only grovel on the floor and pant in terror. _"I...know..."_

"You **know**? How could you possibly **know**? I was out of my prison for all of one hour forty years ago. I see the glimmer of a light bulb for fifteen minutes once a year! Never to hear a loving voice-feel a loving touch-see a tender gaze! You think I'm horrible! What do you think it's like me to have seen my own rotting face after twenty years? The look in the eyes of the man I love? He **loathed** me! _**Can you imagine?**_

Ron summoned all his courage. "Yes...I can imagine...Aunt Kim!"

The silence was so complete, he began to wonder if he was suddenly deaf.

"What...did...you...call...me?"

Slowly Ron stood up. He dared to look down the pipe. There was no mistaking. He saw the reflection of her eye. He shuddered. He swallowed. He tried not to let his voice break. "I called you...Aunt Kim."

The eye blinked. A gurgling sob issued from the pipe. It was still a horrid sound. But he heard the sound of...sorrow. "Ron-I haven't a tender word from another human besides your grandfather in over half a century."

"Aunt Kim...I love you."

The pipe rang as though struck violently. "You **love** me? **Liar! God **_**damn**_** you!**"

The blast of foul air from the pipe smelled like decaying flesh. Ron swore he could see the glimmer of ghastly teeth down its dark length.

"Before I dig my way out of this prison with my bare bony fingers...even if it takes a thousand years...even if your hellspawn family reinforces it with steel, or whatever synthetic material is invented-tell me convincingly how you could possibly say you love me."

"I love what you were-you could save the world in your spare time. I love you because I think it's still alive in you-the girl who loved the children she babysat-the girl who loved her Panda-roo. The girl who loved to shop at Club Banana. The girl who loved her friends. Felix Renton. Monique Watson. Wade Load. Rufus. The girl who loved her family-her brothers the Tweebs. Whose father loved his Kimmie-cub. The girl who was my great-aunt...as Miriam Possible was her great-aunt. The girl who lost Ron Stoppable-as Miriam lost Jon Stoppable. The girl who was Ron Stoppable's beloved-the girl who could do anything...his K.P. No one believed that Mim wasn't guilty of the theft of Dr. Demense's invention...except my great-great-great grandfather Jon Stoppable. And no one who knows what you've become believes you can ever be the heroine again-except me. Like your father...my maternal great-grandfather...I think anything is possible for a Possible."

Kim's voice came through the pipe in a ghoulish whisper barely audible. "You family-fuking damned grandson-of-a-whore. Trying to manipulate me. That's a fine speech you devised. If I had the chance, I would chew your arms and legs off-one bite at a time-so you wouldn't lose consciousness. And then I would pull your head off. I would puree your brains and drink them. Your grandfather had a knack for cooking. I'd love to show you what I remember of what he taught me."

_Find your backbone_, he told himself. _Remember how courage is like a night full of stars._ "I'm going to prove my sincerity, Aunt Kim-I'll tell you how much I love you."

Her voice was like a serpent's hiss. "I'm waiting...dear nephew."

"I'll be back tomorrow. Not next year. Tomorrow."

"And what makes you think I look forward to that anymore than I looked forward to your grandmother's annual visits?"

"Because I have an offer."

"What kind of offer?"

Ron steeled himself. "It'll have to wait, Aunt Kim."

"And what if I promise to cannibalize every one of your descendants when...not if...the next time of them is stupid enough to release me?

"You've already promised that, Aunt Kim. Every time Grandma made her annual visit."

He heard a low blood-curdling growl. "You think you can visualize what horrible things I'm capable of. You have no idea, dear nephew. I've had sixty years of unending darkness to think-and plan."

"Then think about this. What would you give to sleep? To eat? To drink? What would you give to see the sun again?"

He heard another gurgle and sob. He heard-could it be? Yes. He was not mistaken. He heard weeping.

"Aunt Kim? Would you mind the light left on?"

"N-no, Ron. I wouldn't mind."

"Then I'll leave it on. I be back tomorrow. Good night, Aunt Kim." _So far, so good. Thank You, Lord._

_**to be continued**_


	2. Chapter 2: The Lid Closes

When somebody tries to improve on a perfectly excellent picture or story, there are two things to conclude. First, he's good. Second, he's daft. Maybe a little of both.

I took these two stories and was inspired to flesh them out--pardon the pun, since Kim is in the post-mortem state.

& I backtracked from my 1st chpt.

Ryebread was unprepared for the response he got vis-à-vis the reviews. And he was unprepared for the direction this story has taken him.

I'm in the middle of a divorce. I got fired from my job. I should be hunting for a job and place to live. But I'm wasting my time on this. I too am in a kind of prison. It's sort of a catharsis.

I went for dramatic effect. It got to where I couldn't write this for very long at night-- creeped me out.

If I give anybody a bad night's sleep, that's not my intent. I just wanted to portray what Kim went through. Lemme know how I did.

Y'all who reviewed this--y'all who put this on your story alert & story fav list--y'all who put me on your author alert--y'all who sent me encouraging notes via the dA line & the FF-dot-net line. Much thanks. Feelin' your love. God bless us, every one.

Some of the finer points of the story.

Who's Fred Astoria? Fred Astaire, of course.

The snapping of the handcuffs. I read something like it years ago in a Modesty Blaise comic strip. Who's Modesty Blaise? A 1960's Lara Croft--sorta.

Drinking urine. Sounds gross. I've read stories of starving concentration camp prisoners and starving people marooned eating dung and drinking urine. The child of a medical professional, Kim would know enough not to eat dung--even if she got that desperate. Would infect the digestive tract. Very nasty way to die--so I've heard.

The feasibility of drinking urine? Actually, I should've researched that a little more. I've read of people living for weeks not eating, but only days not drinking. Most of what went into writing this chpt. was already rattling around in my well-read but highly disorganized brain. I'm gonna beg off on this one item and let my ambitious readers do the research.

The mental disciplines of Tai Chi and Martial Arts? What I've heard from practitioners of those disciplines.

Going loony in isolation? That's pretty well-founded scientifically.

Daydreaming to cope with unpleasant realities. I do that a lot myself--since grade school.

The horrors of damnation and eternal solitude? I'm a born-again Christian. I have access to lots of writing that describes those things in vivid detail.

Let me address a certain matter here. (Earlier in the day, I rushed to finish this so I could post it--but those ever-present problems of connectivity to the internet kind of closed that window of opportunity.) Since the household has gone to bed, and I'm in my little cubicle, I will now declaim at length. (I can hear the groans of my readers.)

Both my worthy colleagues Cap & daccu have written stories of Kim & Ron becoming vengeful Undead: Where There Is A Will and Legacy Resolved. How did they portray the return of our heroes to a valiant and redemptive heart? By the timely intervention of their loved ones. In the case of daccu's story, those loved ones were redeemed spirits sent from heaven. Such things are related in the collective stories of humanity, both in my own Christian religion, and other religious traditions. The saints and angels appear, or the gods, if you will, to effect a moral awakening. Like some of those old TV shows. Highway To Heaven. Touched By An Angel. Ghost Whisperer. Yadda, yadda. There's even an old expression. Deus ex machina. It's from the days of the early Greek plays, which is the spiritual ancestor of all our movies and shows (Well, to be fair, there's also the Japanese kabuki, the Balinese dancing, the African griot, the storytelling around the campfire of the Native Americans--but I digress)

It's like this. The hero (s) (ine) is / are painted into a corner. No way out. Then help arrives in the last minute. The cavalry come, the angel / saint / god materializes and zaps the sitch. Like the Parting of the Red Sea. Like the Ring falling into Mt. Doom in LOTR. (Well, maybe not quite LOTR) More like the March of the Valar in the Silmarilion.

Now in Greek Drama (there was no backstage back then--the audience saw all the prompters, backstage hands, prop men, etc.--they just had to pretend they didn't see them) Anyhow, in Greek Drama, the actor playing the god was lowered in from above on a winch, like a fishing pole. (Pre-computer graphics) The name of this machine was the Deus ex machina. Since then, that phrase has acquired a bad rep. Smug literary and movie critics apply it to what they think is a quick fix to give the story a happy ending. I'm smug sometimes--okay, most of the time.

Again I digress. Sometimes, the happy ending doesn't just zap from heaven. Helen Keller didn't regain her sight and hearing in The Miracle Worker. Captain America didn't rescue Anne Frank from dying the Nazi prison camp. (Sorry--mixing my images--listen, you guys, I'm just writing to see myself talk. Do yourselves a favor and skip to the story.)

I said all that to say this. I haven't the slightest intent of putting down the way my men Cap and daccu resolved their stories. Their output leaves me in the dust. But I wondered--how would it happen if Kim wasn't healed of her evil zombie-ness in the blink of an eye? What if it happened the way people kick a substance abuse habit--slowly? What if she never quite did? How would her sponsor--Ron Possible cope with all the setbacks?

And there you have the inspiration of A Heroine's Legacy.

Like they say--that and a dime will get you a coffee. Actually, they haven't said that since I was a kid. To update the phrase: that and a ten-spot will get you a latte at Starbuck's--with change--if you're lucky.

Enough gab. On with the show.

The characters are from the Disney's Kim Possible, created by Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley.

Story excerpts by CaptainKodak & daccu65. Used by permish.

_from __**A BOX OF CUDDLEBUDDIES**__ by Captainkodak_

_Reaching the bottom of the now dry cistern she grabbed Kim again and dragged her to the side of the cistern. Taking Kim out of the sling, she undid the handcuffs connecting Kim's wrists to her ankles. This was only for a moment as she rolled Kim over and pulled her arms over her head. A steel ring had been anchored into the wall of the cistern. Tara passed the cuff through the ring and snapped the cuff shut over. Kim began to moan and move a little. Tara backed up away from Kim._

_Kim yelped then struggled against her bonds. She rolled back and forth then pulled herself up to pull the tape from her mouth._

"_Tara? What are you doing? Is this some type of sick joke?"_

_Tara simply turned and started to climb up the ladder._

"_No K, no sick joke. Just justice."_

_Kim shook her head._

"_Justice?"_

_Tara nodded._

"_You don't deserve Ron. He deserves someone who will love him and never leave him. You Kim. I know you. Maybe not now, maybe not tomorrow, but I know in the future, some hottie or smoothie will come along and Ron, your hero will turn into plain old Ron again. And then Kim, you would break his heart and probably not even know or care that you are doing so. So, I am making sure you never hurt him."_

_Tara continued to climb up the ladder. She pulled the ladder out of the hole and laid it to the side. Kim began to scream._

"_Tara, I LOVE RON. I would NEVER do that. Please Tara, let me go!"_

_Tara picked up the crowbar and began to lever the concrete lid back onto the top of the hole. Kim screamed._

"_Please Tara NO! For the love of GOD NO!"_

_Tara stopped for a moment then spoke as she finished levering the lid over the hole. Just as she pushed it shut she called down._

"_NO Kim, not for the love of God, but the love of Ron."_

_With a final shove Tara pushed the lid over the hole. A wailing scream came from the hole._

"_NOOOoooooo……."_

from _**LEGACY RESOLVED**_ by daccu65

_The figure sobbed. "I didn't even know I was dead! I was trapped there, in the dark. It was hard to breathe and I kept blacking out, I didn't know how much time had passed. At some point, I managed to get free from the cuffs. Every so often, tapping or scrapping on the cover would wake me up. I thought that Tara was tormenting me, or maybe getting ready to let me out. Then, the cover opened up and I was free. It was dark outside and nobody was there. I thought that Tara had let me out but was too afraid to stay and face me. I went home, determined to find Ron and confront Tara the next day."_

"_But I couldn't get into the house," Kim moaned. "The spare key wasn't in its hiding place. The door didn't even have a keyhole, just a keypad. I broke in and saw that the furniture wasn't the same so I ran to my room, but it wasn't my room anymore. It had changed as well. Then I looked into the mirror."_

"_I saw THIS!" Kim shrieked, pointing to her withered face. "And I knew that I was dead. I knew that months, maybe years, had gone by. I went back to Tara's house to deal with her. That's when I found out that she had married Ron, had a family, HAD A LIFE WHILE I WAS TRAPPED IN THE PIT!"_

_**A HEROINE'S LEGACY**_

_**chpt. 2**_

_**THE LID CLOSES**_

Kim screamed at the top of her lungs. _**"Please, Tara, NO! For the love of GOD, NO!"**_ She jerked on her manacles so violently that her wrists began at once to bleed.

The grating of the concrete lid as Tara pried it closed was a bell stroke of doom.

"No, Kim, not for the love of God--but the love of Ron," she said laconically.

The blandness of her tone of voice contrasted with the horror in Kim's heart.

"_**NOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooooooooo……."**_

The lid dropped into place with a clunk, and the scream was cut off like the pressing of a "mute" switch. Tara allowed herself a sickly grin. "Enjoy your box of cuddlebuddies, Kim--for the rest of eternity."

_**"TAAAAAA--RAAAAAA!!"**_

Kim's vocal cords felt as though they would snap with the final scream. The darkness was like a thick stuffing around her. It felt hard to breathe.

Nature's call came at once. In the ultimate panic of the moment, Kim emptied her bladder and bowels.

"Oh, God! Please! Get me out of here!" She drew herself in a little ball and sobbed hysterically.

It was sometime later. _Am I at the lake with Ron? Am I still wearing my bikini? It feels so wet. It's dark. Must be nighttime. Ew! That smell! _"Ron--did you let a fart go? Darn it! You and a naco meal--so the odor!"

Kim's shoulder and hip ached. She had fallen asleep on the bare ground. Where were the night sounds of the lake? The crickets? Where was the crackle and cheery glow of the campfire Ron had started?

Her eyelids snapped open. Recall was immediate. The horror and despair flooded in. **"Sh*t! F*k! D*mmit!"** She swore profusely in her panic.

Kim sat up, and the chain pulled her back down. The cuffs bit into her wrists. Her clothes were soaked in urine. Her buttocks and thighs were smeared with feces. And she sobbed again like a little girl. "Oh, God--where You? Ron! Where are you?"

More hours passed. The initial panic settled into a dull resignation. The tired emotional mind took its rest.

The rest proved healing. The mind and spirit that could do anything asserted itself_. I'll survive this thing! D*mmit! I'll get out of here!_ **"Tara! You little whore! I'll get out! And I'll see how **_**you**_** like it down here!"**

_Think! Think! Ron must be looking for me! He knows me! He knows what he means to me! Tara's full of crap. He knows I wouldn't blow him off! He knows I wouldn't go anywhere without telling him--on a mission, out shopping, even going to bed! _

She must plan. There was enough air. Hunger and thirst. Thirst would be the biggie.

Tentatively, Kim licked at her urine on the cistern floor--and spat in disgust. "Won't do, girl! You don't have a lotta choice! What the hey, I've read stories. People marooned in the wilderness--living for weeks! I can so do this!"

The next order of business was the mess between her legs. Pulling herself close to the wall so she could reach below her waist, she unbuttoned her capris. "God! I'm filthy!" Struggling, she pulled off the soiled garments. "This is awful!. I am so gonna mash Tara's face in it when I get out of here!" As best as she could, she wiped off the mess with the unsoiled part of her panties. "Cleaning off the sh*t with a pair of p*ss-soaked panties!" She laughed. "Kim's Survival Course, 101." _Good! This was good! Humor! A coping mechanism. Keep that thought! _

She lay the capris on the concrete floor beside her, and the panties next to that. The capris might dry in a while and actually be wearable. The panties? Ugh! Lost cause.

Next thing. Buck naked from the waist down. Kim laughed again. "Oh, Ron! What an opportunity you're missing! Your bare-*ssed GF chained to a wall! I'd have to beat you off with a club!"

Hypothermia? A real possibility. _Think warm thoughts! Think warm thoughts!_ Snuggled up to a campfire with Ron--being spooned under the covers by Ron--Ron on top of her--!

Kim shook herself. "Whoa! Head in the game, girl! There's such a thing as too hot!" She thought to herself about freeing her wrists.

Snapping a metal chain? Only one way to accomplish that without the laser lipstick, or any of her other devices--leverage.

Kim stretched her body out full length. She was face-up, her wrists secured to the steel ring in the wall. She turned herself to the right--on her side, then facing down, then on her left side, then facing up. The chain of the manacles was twisted tight.

Now to apply leverage. The twisting would either break the chain, or her wrists. She somehow pulled herself to her feet. Another few degrees of twist--the manacles bit into her wrist.

Kim gritted her teeth and took a deep breath. _Don't be afraid of the pain--you're already buried alive--what could some fractured bones matter?_

She composed her mind, as her martial arts instructors had taught her. By expending a small amount of effort in the proper way, she could apply a proportionately enormous amount of force.

_Slowly, slowly, carefully, carefully--_. Her lower arms were screaming in pain. The metal of the chain was stressing.

_Plink!_

Kim gasped with joy! A link had snapped! She shook her arms. Free! She cried aloud. "You hear that, Tara? I'm halfway free! You'd better enjoy your time with Ron while you can!"

The Capris were soon dry, so she put them on.

It was impossible to tell how much time had passed. How to pass the time so she wouldn't go insane. She replayed her life from day one--at least what her parents had told her about her life from day one.

Kim had read (or heard) that when people recalled certain events from the earliest days of their life, it wasn't really what they remembered, but only the imagination making pictures of what had been told by others. Hence the branch of psychiatry that claimed to recover memories repressed through physical or emotional trauma was not a valid science.

Kim hardly cared for such longhair ivory tower academic blab-ness (Blab-ness--a Ronspeak word--it brought an involuntary giggle to her lips) Kim was going through as real a psychological trauma as any person had ever gone through or would go through. Was the stuff she remembered real or not? They would keep her from losing her mind. Therefore, she would consider them as genuine. D*mmit, her memories of her fam were hers, happy or sad. And no one, least of all that scheming little snipe above wouldn't take them from her!

The TV guys who were selling their CD's and DVD's that would tell the folks at home how to improve their lives said that people can create their own realities by force of will. Kim laughed to herself for a moment. If it worked to be a millionaire just by imagining that she could sell a new organic cleanser, or scented candles, or by sending a love offering to Rev. Smileyface, she would never have had to accept another babysitting gig for the rest of her life.

But Kim was certainly familiar with the principle taught by her martial art teachers. To defeat an opponent, one must cultivate the mindset of victory long before the physical battle--not as a substitute for the physical training, but as a foundation.

The lessons were well learned. For brief snatches of time, the prison that Tara had intended to be Kim's demise became the Possible household on Christmas, and Halloween. It became Ron's treehouse. It became the high school gym where the Maddog Cheer Squad practiced after school, where volleyball games were held, where Kim danced with Josh, and later Ron.

And in her mind's eye, when Kim glanced over and saw Tara in her Cheer Squad uniform, she reminded herself, "You're here because I'm allowing you to be here. I could bounce you out of this mental sitch as easily as you shut the lid on this place. And when I'm remembering dancing with Josh, or getting my braces stuck with Walter, it doesn't mean a thing as far as my faithfulness to Ron. Those things happened--and I had to work through them--and it makes me appreciate my Ron all the more. So take that, Tara Rene King! And I hope you pinched your toe when you closed the cistern lid!"

Most of all, the cistern became the battleground of a hundred missions, as Kim fought side by side with Ron and Rufus.

What was that old song? Nana used to sing it to herself: The way you comb your hair, / The way you dance with me, / The way you something, something / No, no, they can't take that away from me!

Well, Tara couldn't take Kim's memories away from her. They were hers, both happy and sad, and a million cisterns lids wouldn't suffice close off her reminiscences.

The song was from a movie. Some dancing Hollywood actor and actress. Fred Astoria and Roger Gingers. Roger Gingers? Nah. So the confusion. Hadda be Ginger Rogers.

Kim shrugged. It hardly mattered. When she got out, she would spend more time with Nana, watching what Nana liked, listening to what Nana liked , doing what Nana liked with her--doing what her fam liked with them--even ski trips with the 'rents. Even watching Extreme Sports with the Tweebs.

Kim kept up with her Tai Chi. No cals in here. No room, first. Second, it would burn up energy--and she needed to stretch her survival. But the Tai Chi exercises centered her. They kept her focused. They kept her mind from wandering to the horror of being trapped in the dark.

Kim worked out a routine. When she was most afraid of the fear, she threw herself back on her reminiscences. When that got too boring, she did her Tai Chi. When she got tired, she slept. Sometimes the chill got to her, and she would drape the capris around her shoulders.

In the dry air of the cistern, even the panties dried. When she lifted them up with distaste, they were stiff with dried feces. They cracked when she bent them, but she worked until the cloth was supple. And she (gulp) put them on. She needed to maintain her body heat when her capris were draped around her shoulders.

And when she got out (after stuffing the panties down Tara's throat) she would buy all her stuff from Smarty Mart. Never again would she burn up all her babysitting money going for high ticket designer labels at Club Banana.

Kim slept curled up on one side, then the other side, on her back--whatever worked. And when she got too stiff, she did her stretching and Tai Chi excercies.

Kim kept a decent house. When she had to do her business, she would go and squat in one corner And she lived in the other corner. It smelled like crap, but, hey, next time she was stuck in some death trap by a villain, she would insist on indoor plumbing. The thought made her laugh, and she utilized it as part of her mental coping arsenal.

And the all important thing. Fighting off thirst. It had to be done. Kim would cup her hand while she urinated--and sip--every drop. It was hard at first. But Kim learned to savor every drop, even licking off her hand.

Every so often Kim heard noises. Scraping and digging sounds. At first she thought it was rescue. Her elation was beyond words. But when nothing further happened, she sank back into the despair. And she had to learn--as with martial arts, she had practice control and discipline.

Maybe Tara was playing her. Kim resisted the urge to scream her lungs out. It would only burn up her energy reserves. And Kim was in warrior mode. It was her mission to hold out until she got out. And anything was possible.

_I'm coming, Ron,_ she told herself. _Don't believe Tara's lies when she's telling you that she doesn't know where I am. Don't buy into her bereavement thing!_

OMG! The fam! They must be going through hell, wondering where Kim was, maybe even grieving her death. Maybe even holding a funeral. _Daddy! Hold on! Your Kimmie-Cub is in h*lluva Black Hole Deep! But she's gonna so get out!_

It was another way of helping Kim cope, remembering she was not alone in her suffering. The others would miss her.

Mixed with her yearning for Ron, her hatred of Tara gave her strength. It fuelled her determination.

_I am so going to take it out of her hide! I'm gonna take that same Kissy Girl Lip Gloss sleep gas and jam her nose into it! I'm gonna leave a circular dent on her face! I'm gonna take these handcuffs and put one cuff around both her wrists and one cuff around both her ankles! Or one cuff around her scrawny little neck, and stuff the other cuff up her butthole!_ And if the cops would let her, she would stuff Tara's sorry bony pathetic little body into the cistern and shove the lid shut. _There, Tara Rene King! Now __**you**__ can hang out in total darkness for a couple days--or weeks! You can scream yourself hoarse! And clean up your bod when you pea and crap all over yourself. And drink your own pea when your throat feels like sandpaper! And I'll come by once every day or so and bang on the cistern lid, so you can wonder if you'll ever see daylight again! And you won't even be chained to the freaking wall!_

At last!

Kim heart some serious noises. Not just the scraping. Some definite knocking. Three times--four times.

Couldn't be Tara. Kim had worked it out in her head. Tara wouldn't even come back to investigate. Tara would hustle her bony little butt away from the scene of the crime as fast as her little stick legs would carry her!

Someone was signaling! And Kim answered. Scratch for scratch. Knock for knock. No screaming. That would use up the energy for survival. That was for panic stricken little cheerleaders. Kim has become a battle-hardened veteran.

But the slow grind one night--or day--like a huge grindstone. The lid was opening! **Now**

was the proper time for delirious happiness. Help was coming

And if, God forbid, it was somehow Tara, seeing if Kim was still alive? That was a no-brainer, Kim promised herself grimly. She would stick her hand through and put the grip on Tara's throat. And she would apply the same torque as when she snapped the handcuffs. And if the lid slammed back, cutting Kim's arm off? Well, WTF? It was war--life and death.

But it opened.

Kim waited in the dark, like a wild animal. Friend or foe? Wait and see. Don't get all happy-sappy.

And the lid stopped moving.

Strange. Something had happened. Something had interrupted whoever was up there.

But there was a space! Almost big enough for her head to fit through. And years of missions had taught Kim--if your head can get through, your bod can get through.

As she had before, Kim applied leverage. Tara had a crowbar to move the cistern lid. Kim herself had only her own physical prowess. She gritted her teeth and pushed. She almost screamed with exertion.

There was a small grinding sound as the lid budged just a little. Kim's heart leaped again!. Just a little at a time. It had been hours, days, weeks--who knew how long? But she was almost free.

The small crack widened to a crevasse. Kim could stick her hand through. It was dark out. But she could feel the soft nighttime breeze.

At last! Wide enough to crawl through!

Kim took off her clothes and shoved them through the opening. It was barely wide enough. She didn't want to tear her clothes wedging herself through.

Her hair caught on the rough edge of the cistern. Darn! And she laughed to herself. She had cursed like Bon-bon at a beerfest when she was first locked up in that hellhole! And now she sounded all prim and ladylike to herself!

The vast vault of Heaven with it's veil of clouds and scattering of diamond stars stretched over head.

Out! Free at last! Kim wept with relief. She threw her head back. "Hello, sky! Hello, stars! Hello, Middleton! I'm back! Did'ja miss me? I sure missed you!"

A light rain fell. Kim shivered a little with the cold. Ah, what the heck? It felt good! She might live outside from now on! She ran her fingers through her hair. She put on her clothes. God! Her arms and legs! So thin! She would eat out for a month! Grande meals at Bueno Nacho! Forget the nutrition warnings! She would exercise every last bit of fatty lipid out of her blood stream! She would become as buff as Adrienne Lyne! Or she let herself go, just for a few months! She would get as big as Wade! She would just sit around and watch reruns of Agony County and all dozen sequels of Flying Bricks of Fury! She would watch her baby videos with the Tweebs! She would keep Daddy's curfew religiously! Or she might come home at sunrise! And gladly be grounded for a decade! And she would say with tenderest love, "Daddy, your Black Hole Deep doesn't begin to compare with where I've been!"

"Oh, God! Thank You! Thank You! I'll join Ron's Synagogue! And I'll still attend my own church! Pastor Davis will get sick of seeing me! I'll make up every day of Sunday School and Bible Study I ever missed!"

She felt absolutely grubby. God! How she must look. First thing, a shower when she got home! No! First thing, a love-and-hugfest with the fam! No! First thing, call Ron and have a make-out kissy-face reunion that would melt his lips off and shock ten years growth of Daddy and make the Tweebs afraid of a Boyfriend Cootie Pandemic!

Kim began jogging to her house. But she felt too stiff. So she settled for a slow steady walk

She looked around the neighborhood. Something wasn't quite right. There were subtle differences. Oh, forget about it. It was a trick of the mind. She had been locked up for days--weeks maybe.

She saw groups of children--in costume? Like Halloween? WTF! She had been imprisoned by Tara at the beginning of June!

Far off to the side, she heard a child's scream and wail. "Mommy! Daddy! A monster!" Poor girl. Some realistic costume had scared the daylights out of her. If Kim had more time, she would have stopped and comforted the poor little kid.

It was a long walk. Kim had driven her car out to the King house on the fateful day.

More subtle differences. The street signs looked different. Same with the stop signs. The houses looked newer--or older, depending.

Kim began experiencing that old panic. _Control, Kimmie, control. Head in the game. You're out. That's what matters._

At last! Her house! As fast as her stiff legs could carry her, Kim limped toward the front door.

No one home. Just as well. Kim would raid the fridge and shower--and then call Wade and the 'rents.

Kim shook her head. Something was wrong. She should be thinking of Ron. She should want to fly to his arms like a bird to the nest.

_It's gotta be the hunger. Making me spacey. Get myself together--then find Ron--and Tara,_ she promised herself grimly.

No key under the welcome mat on the porch. No keyhole at the door. Now _that_ was spacey!

Kim was forced to kick the door open. Good ol' Kung-Fu! Works in a pinch!

More subtle changes. Was the carpet always that color? Had the chair always been there?

Must be things look different in the dark. And Kim had been in one dark spot for the past however long.

"Mom? Dad? Tweebs?" Kim ran--or walked stiffly to her loft.

Yeah. The ol' room. Nothing changed. Bed, Panda-Roo, closet, desk. So not the drama.

Kim saw something out of the corner of her eye. She yelped and jumped a foot in the air. The mirror--.

--The night before she had been trapped by Tara, Kim had seen Ron's latest version of Zombies of Mayhem. It was a flashback of Chester Yapsby's giant cockroaches. She had hidden her face in Ron's shoulder. "Ron, this is so creeping me out! Let's do something else!"

Fears of being locked up again in the cistern boiled up in her. Fears of eternal damnation, like when she heard televangelists preach about Hell. Trembling, she turned back to look--

--That must be it. Kim had died and gone to Eternal Hell. There was no other explanation for the Thing--the foul loathsome Being--the hideous Demon she saw staring back at her in the mirror.

A mummified ashen gray corpse. A skull for a face. Glaring green eyes, baleful yellow teeth. No eyelid, no lips. Lank red hair that hung like strings of swamp grass.

Kim stared at her arms. Where were the scrawny but healthy arms she saw when she squeezed her way out of the cistern? "My God--"

Her voice! This mockery of a human voice. A voice that sounded like the chorus of the damned, like an eternal lament. Kim cupped a hand over her mouth--and screamed. The feel of that dried leathery parchment on the palm of her hand.

Kim fell to her hands and knees. She vomited--and sobbed. But nothing came. Her stomach was empty--or whatever it was down her throat. Her eyes were dry. _**"Mommy! Daddy! Ron!"**_

She rammed her fist into the mirror. It shattered into dozens of fragments. A shard cut her arm--and nothing bled.

Kim ran from the house in nightmarish terror--and horrid demonic hatred. _**I'm going to kill Tara! I'm going to sink my teeth in her throat and tear her windpipe out! I'm going to rip her arms and legs and head off like paper!**_

This time, Kim was mindful of the screams of the trick-or-treaters. Good! Let them remember the night they saw a real-live ghoul! No! Not alive! Dead! Dead, doomed, and damned forever! She snarled as she ran past them. **"Out of my way, or I'll drag you to the Pit of Hell!"**

It was all empty threat. But she didn't care if she scared them to death or not. She knew who she was after. She knew who it was she would take by the throat and drag with her back into the cistern

It was a long walk back to the King house. But not as long as Kim had been in the cistern, obviously.

There was no hesitation about splintering the front door open. Apparently the movies were true. Mummies--or zombies--or whatever she was--had supernatural strength.

Kim searched the house, downstairs and up. Childrens' rooms. Did the King family still even live here?

A darkness entered Kim's soul. _Doing missions my whole g*dd*m life--what'd it get me? Didn't get me sh*t! From now on, No More Miss Nice Girl!_

She glanced up to the heavens and flipped a middle finger. "I guess that means I won't be joining Rabbi Katz's synagogue, will it, God?" She said with an evil leer. "By the way, You up there--is this how Shego went bad?"

Kim would be like the famous maniacs of history. Not just the offender, but the entire family would die. The whole freakin' household--pets too, if they had any.

Kim heard a noise downstairs. _Somebody's gonna have a Halloween to remember_, she told herself with grim humor

Kim passed a mirror. With a shudder, she forced herself to look. It had not been her imagination. The ghastly sight did the same movements as her.

_It's going to be the last thing Tara King ever sees,_ Kim promised herself.

Downstairs Kim limped.

Kim heard the gasp of horror--and turned.

It was a middle-aged woman. It looked like Regina King, Tara's mother. "Where's Tara, Mrs. King--?" And Kim gasped herself in realization. "Tara--!" She was confronting her Nemesis.

And Tara was confronting her divinely ordained Judgment.

Tara tried to wedge herself into the corner. Her face turned pasty white. Her eyes bulged like tea cups. Her lip quivered like a twig in a cyclone. "N-no! Th-the h-handc-cuffs! Y-you c-can't b-be! **You can't be!**"

Kim's own voice gave her the chills. Good. The better to "tara-fy". Kim laughed at her own horrid joke.

"Yes I can be, Tara! Tell me--before I rip your neck off your shoulders--how long has it been?"

Tara cowered and blubbered.

Kim shrieked. "**How long?** Ten years? Twenty? **Thirty?**"

"I--d-don't--know, K-kim!" Tara groveled on the floor before the Undead monstrosity that towered over her.

Kim grabbed Tara's hair. Lifting up her head, she grabbed Tara's neck. "You're coming with me, Tara--back to that concrete coffin."

Tara gagged. Her tongue protruded. It was most satisfying.

A taller figure burst into the room.

Kim knew at once who it was. Still the freckles. Still the ears. Still the brown eyes. A touch of gray in the blonde hair. Grasping a glowing blue bo. The Lotus Blade, metamorphosed. Only the pure in heart could wield it. For just an instant, her heart melted. _He's come for me!_ She started to speak the beloved name--"Ro--"

He instantly was upon her, clubbing her with the bo. "Get away from my wife."

_Ron! It's me! Don't you know? Can't you tell? _The horror in Kim's heart when she was sealed in the cistern--the horror in her heart when she discovered her new appearance--the grief of being attacked by the man she loved with all her heart. They were surpassed by the sorrow and the hatred--"Your wife? You married Tara? **Ron Stoppable! You married my murderer!**"

Ron staggered back, mingled shock, sorrow, and dismay on his face. "Kim?"

Lon Stoppable burst in, still dressed in his gorilla costume, the mask taken off. "Mom!" --And he stopped in his tracks, staring at the Halloween horror come to life. "Get away from her!"

"A son **and** a daughter, Tara? Good! They can keep you company in Hell!" Kim advanced toward the young man. She had to admire his nerve. He wasn't collapsing like his mother was. "You have no one to blame but your mother for this, boy! Remember that!"

Ron recovered himself. He stepped in front of her, deadly intent flashing in his eyes. "No, Kim--not my children."

For just an instant, Kim felt a twinge, a hesitation. "Ron?" And then her mad vile hatred directed itself at him. "How **dare** you?" With a howl, Kim leaped upon him. Her fists pummeled Ron's jaw and chest. She jammed her feet into his gut and groin. He staggered back.

He willed the Lotus Bo into the Lotus Blade.

Kim's clawed hand grazed Ron's cheek--and the Blade severed it. The other hand grasped his arm--and the Blade severed it. Kim leapt at Ron, baring her teeth--and the Blade severed her head. The torso ran around headless and armless--Ron severed the legs at the thighs.

The head bounced and rolled. Ron wept as he slashed. It was either Kim or his family. But to be forced to dismember the girl he loved--it was a waking nightmare.

Kim could only wiggle her head. The limbs and torso twitched convulsively. She looked up at the stern pitiless warrior. "Ron! Please!"

Ron was aghast. The events of years slid past his eyes like falling stars. The nationwide--worldwide--search for Kim by the Yamanuchi ninja, by Global Justice, even by the Team Possible villains. Ron had gone for weeks without sleep. Grieving Kim with Mr. and Mrs. Dr. P. Marrying Tara. Raising their children. Growing old together. "Kim--what happened? What can I do?"

The head on the floor moved its mouth like a ventriloquist's puppet. "What can you **do**? Do you really have to **ask**? You can decapitate my murderer--like you just did to me! And after that, you can cut the heart out of every last one of the bastard brood she gave birth to! _**That's **_what you can do--if you have the **nerve**!"

Ron fell to his knees and spread out his arms in impassioned appeal to the slavering head. "K.P.--my children--my family!"

Lon felt a surge of disgust. This loathsome talking skull was ordering his father to sacrifice the entire family to satisfy her bloodlust. And his father in turn was on his knees, as though bowing to a frightful heathen idol, begging the rotting piece of flesh to reconsider!

Kim could _feel_ her arms and legs. She _willed_ them to recombine! The arms crawled across the floor toward the head.

And she spewed out the poison of her hatred and bitterness "You're really asking what else you can do? Nothing, Ron! Nothing at all! Just stand there, like the helpless buffoon sidekick you used to be! You're infantile!"

Ron barked orders. "Get a canvas tarp! A garbage can liner! A shopping bag! Anything! She's reforming!"

Kim laughed in awful terrible glee. "You see? You can't win, Ron! I'm already dead. You can't kill me. I'll finish you, then your family will be next!"

Lon rushed in with a tarp.

"Spread it out! On the floor!" shouted Ron, like a crazy man. "Pick up the pieces!"

Tara lifted one of Kim's arms--and it grabbed Tara's arm. She babbled frightfully. "Ron! Lon!"

Kim chanted mockingly in singsong. "Ron--Lon--Ron--Lon! S'matter, Tara? You look like you could use a helping hand!"

Lon knocked the arm loose.

Ron steeled himself and took up Kim's head by the hair.

"What? No kiss for your GF from her BF? It's been twenty years, Ron!" Her head managed to swing itself like a pendulum. She gnashed her teeth, trying to bite him.

With a sob of disgust, Ron dropped the gruesome object onto the pile of parts in the tarp.

A thought of tragic horror ripped through Kim's unholy glee--it was the last time she would ever feel the touch of her beloved's hand. "Ron!" Her voice sounded sickening even to her own ears "I'm sorry! I didn't mean it!

The mingled look of revulsion and love in Ron's face he lifted a corner of the tarp and cast it over her head rent Kim's heart.

They carried her wrapped in the in the tarp.

Kim railed at them through the canvas. "You're pathetic! The bunch of you!" She laughed .

The rattle of bones from inside the tarp told the story. Kim was gathering herself. "Hey, Ron! Isn't this badical? Just like one of Wade's inventions! You could market me! Instant Zombie Girlfriend Kit! Some Assembly Required!"

Tara covered her ears. "Ron! Make her stop!"

"Shut up, Tara!" he yelled. "Grab that corner! A part of her might fall out!"

Tara became hysterical. "No! No! I'm not touching any part of that horrid creature!"

Ron swore. "Hurry! All of you! We haven't much time!"

He heard the cackle of laughter. "Y'know, Ron--I'm gonna be _so_ tweaked at you over this! I don't know if any amount of Ron-shine will ever quite make up for this poor treatment!"

He cringed in horror, and wept at the same time.

The tarp opened. Kim saw the cistern. "No! Not that! Not again!"

They cast her through the narrow space into the inner stygian darkness--her former and now eternal prison.

"Ron! It's been a lifetime! We were supposed to go swimming at Lake Middleton! Please! I love you!"

For just a moment, it was the sound of the girl's voice, a pitful entreaty.

Ron's face was framed in the narrow opening. "I love you, Kim! But my children are my children! If I let you out--if I go to Yamanuchi--if I try to find a way--to restore you--if I even stay with you like you are now--will you leave my children alone?"

Kim railed at him. "Stay with me like I am now? Like some kind of pity date from Hell? And her children--**her children**--still alive? **Never!** Not in a thousand years! **Not in a million years!**"

Ron used the Lotus Blade to pry the lid closed. "Goodbye, Kim. I love you." He wanted to jump into the dark--even if she should draw and quarter him. Glancing at Lon was the only thing that held him back.

Just hours ago, Kim had been delirious with joy at escaping. Now it was like a horrible replay of the event. "Ronald Stoppable! I hate you! I hate her! I hate you both--**forever**!" And like the Resurrection of Christ in reverse, the stone rolled shut.

Her body was whole--as whole as it would ever be. She screamed--she wailed--she groaned aloud--over and over--**"Ron! Ron! I love you! Ron!"**

In the world above, Ron glared at his wife. "Now, Tara--explain! And I'd better hear every little detail!"

Tara glanced nervously at the Lotus Blade gripped in her husband's fist. "Ron--are you going to kill me?"

Lon's gaze shifted from his father to his mother. He too was appalled at the sudden thought..

Ron's words were short and clipped. "Don't--tempt--me--Tara!" With a glimmer of blue, the Lotus Blade faded from view, and mother and son breathed a sigh of relief.

The closing of the cistern lid that brought an end to Kim's brief freedom also brought an end to Tara's life of happiness as she had known it. Ron would not leave. He must guard the monster from escape. He would not let Tara leave. He bound Lon to secrecy. The Possible family must not know the fate of the beloved sister and daughter they thought to be in eternal rest.

They lived apart in the home as thought they lived in different centuries. Tara threatened--once--to leave Ron.

What he told her in low tones made her stay in her bedroom for a week. Lon suspected his father had threatened to put his mother in the cistern.

The yearly ritual began. Halloween. All Hallows Eve. When the border between this life and the next grows thin. When the dead come back, ever so briefly.

Ron would come every year, for a few precious moments.

It was always the same.

Ron would go downstairs to the well room in the basement. He would uncap the pipe and inquire, as though it were an oracle. "What do you want, Kim?"

The foul odor of decay. The voice that Ron imagined a voice would sound telling a departed soul they were bound for the everlasting Lake of Fire.

"Vengeance. Justice. Retribution. Whatever you want to call it. Life for life. Let me out and let me do what I need to do. That's what I want."

And he would recap the pipe and sob on his bed until his eyes were dry and his throat seared.

Then he stopped coming. He had died.

Then it was Tara. "Kim--I have to know--what do you want?"

And the chilling macabre voice floated from the pipe. "I want you, Tara Rene King. You're not worthy to have his name! I want your children! I've built up quite an appetite stuck down here!"

After each yearly conversation, Kim would cast herself bodily against the wall until her bones shattered. But death never came. Whatever evil force had made her an Undead always put her back together like a vile jigsaw puzzle.

Kim lost count of the years.

Until at last she heard a new voice.

Ron's grandson. Tara's grandson. Her brother Tim's grandson. Her parents' great-grandson. The grandson Kim should have had. Ronald Zimmer Possible.

With love--and a question.

A question that made Kim forget her hatred for just a moment. A question that reminded her: anything might be possible. A question that made her weep.

In the hell of her existence, a glimmer of hope.

_"Aunt Kim--what would you give to see the sun again?"_

_**to be continued**_

A final _final_ note. Ronald Possible's middle name is taken from the Possible fam ancestor, Zimm Possible, in A Very Possible Christmas, and Nana's middle name in G-Go's fic, Indiana Jones and the Tempus Simia.

My readers--when will I update? Dunno. Glacially Slow Writer, don'tcha know.


	3. Chapter 3: Backstory, An Iron Resolve

Sentinel 103: thank you for your enjoyment. I too look forward to Kim becoming normal.

Joe Stoppinghem : you have articulated an important distinction. Spiritual wholeness as opposed to physical. Ron's great goal, of course, is the former.

daccu65:Yes. I found myself doing things like leaving the lights on at night and avoiding looking into mirrors. If you think about it, there are all sorts of intangible influences and forces in the world. And we are warned by the writers of the New Testament not to yield ourselves to every influence that comes along. A glimpse or two--just to get the mindset--but don't look too long.

acosta perez jose ramiro : thank you.

PiRsqrd314159 : yeah--regarding Fred Astaire's real name. I figure--like my own kids--Kim might be a little weak on the cultural lore of previous generations. Thanks for the info.

whitem: why is Kim an Undead? That is one of the dilemmas Ron must struggle through.

screaming phoenix and CajunBear73 : thanks for the encouragement.

Muzzlehatch : I thought about an ending like Incident at Owl Creek Bridge. But you will notice that even captainkodak and daccu tacked on positive endings to their stories. My positive ending is already written--in both all its tragedy and glory. It's just a matter of dragging it's way through the pit.

soulman3 : you bring up a very good point. Kim is angry without cause at Ron and his children. It is very human and very understandable--but undeserved. And part of her healing will be to confront that issue.

Geodesic : Keep writing ? I plan to. It might be said that she has reneged on her salvation because of her resentment against the innocents of the Stoppable family. But of course redemption and salvation are gifts. In a way, it's like the Calvinistic thing of Ultimate Depravity. The fall is so intense that the rescue is that much more glorious.

greenzxr: can I make a shameless confession? I love to wring out emotions--both my own and my readers'. More chills and tears are coming--if I have anything to say about it.

Mr. Wizard: thank you.

I was in the middle of telling the story of Ron's next step in his quest to reclaim his Aunt Kim from the dark side--and my writing navigational instincts went ka-flooey. Whatever that means.

Remember Jack Sparrow's compass in Pirates of the Caribbean? The compass that points to whatever the person wants? It's like

Harry Potter's Mirror of Erised. ("Desire" spelled backwards--it actually took me about a year to pick up on that.)

Well--my compass--my mirror--showed me a different vision. A different direction. It said "backstory".

So--I'm going back--filling in--explaining how Ron Possible arrived to this noble resolve.

Dunno how long it will take.

The contents of Kimpossible-dot-com appear at the opening of each show--when Christina Milan sings the theme song--I'm your basic average girl--.

I fleshed out a scene from daccu's story, Family Legacy.

Outside of that, all the characters and plotline details are drawn from the K.P. series, created by Mark McKortle and Bob Schooley, and owned by Disney.

Ron's reminiscences and Kim's diary entries are taken from the dialogue of A Sitch in Time and So The Drama.

A HEROINE'S LEGACY

chpt. 3

the backstory--an iron resolve

Ronald Zimmer Possible thought long and hard about it. He supposed the germ of the idea was generated that Halloween night, when he flew in from Yamanouchi at his grandmother's urgent request. It was about his grandfather, and what Grandma Tara had referred to as a "family legacy."

Ron was used to a lifetime of heady tales and legendary adventures. There were the stories from the Stoppable side, of Ronicus the gladiator, a hero of ancient Rome, and of Detective Jonathan Stoppable, ace sleuth for the Middleton P.D.

And from the Possible side, of Col. Zimm Possible, the dashing young officer in George Washington's Continental Army, of Miriam Possible, the spunky reporter for the Middleton Times, and of his own great-great grandmother, Emily Possible, Navy diver and underwater demolitions expert.

The greatest adventures, however, arose from the exploits of the partnership of his great-aunt, Kim Possible, and his grandfather, Ron Stoppable.

They were average teenagers on the surface--who, with the help of their mission co-ordinator, Wade Load, and other family members and friends, had stymied the efforts of numerous villains to conquer the world.

And from this had sprung Grandpa Ron's mythic role as a destined mystical warrior, the bearer of a magical sword, the Lotus Blade, a Japanese Excalibur, and what would prove to be a generational involvement with a centuries-old training ground for ninjas.

But nothing--in his wildest dreams or nightmares--would prepare him for his grandmother's narrative that Halloween. He was horror-struck at the chilling account of her plot to murder Kim, who was her close friend, and the ghastly story of the legendary teen heroine's true fate.

And then she had invited him to the old pump room in the basement, where the pipe still ran under the yard out to the old cistern under the gazebo.

Before that awful night, Ron had spent a lifetime studying his famous great aunt. Again and again he had seen all the old audio video clips. It thrilled him to his feet to hear her say, "Aw, it was no big."

To really meet her. To really hear her voice. He would've given anything.

And he got his wish.

Ron could barely stagger back upstairs to Grandma Tara's living room. He sat cradling his head in his hands.

Grandma Tara laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Ron?" Her voice was as low as sound of their footsteps on the carpeted floor. "Would you like something to drink? A glass of water? Your throat must be dry."

_Good guess, Grandma. A drink of something stronger, maybe._ But he could not trust himself to keep it down. The appalling horrific screeching he had just listened to made him want to drink hemlock--and die in his sleep. He wondered how he would get to sleep tonight--or ever again. Slowly he looked up. "Grandma--how could you?"

Tara sighed as though her heart would break. "That's what my husband and sons asked me, Ron. That's what I've asked myself every waking moment for the past four decades. That's what my God will ask me when I appear before Him." A tear trickled down her cheek. "I guess inside I'm as evil as Kim has become. I've lost count of the hours and days I've spend on my knees, begging God to somehow heal that poor girl and forgive me."

Ron wanted to reach up and take his grandmother's hand in a clasp of comfort--but he held back.

His religious teachings had assured him that the blackest stain on a person's soul could be removed by God's grace. But that was before he heard the story--and listened to the mad screams of the story's main character. His imagination tried to fill in the appearance of the Undead Speaker. It it took every iota of his Yamanouchi meditative training to steer his mind from the gruesome vision.

The door chime rang. Tara sniffled and shook herself free from her reverie. "Must be a Trick-or Treater," she said absently. She stood to answer the door.

The irony was not lost on Ron. Some happy youngster dressed as a goblin or witch or fantasy character--and a true Daughter of the Damned was sealed up like a Satanic genie on a bottle scant yards away.

He heard the clink as his grandmother picked up the candy dish--the clack of the doorknob turning--the groan of the old oak door opening--the happy squeal of "Trick or Treat--!"

--And the ungodly bloodcurdling shriek.

Ron bolted to the door. He was preparing to summon the Lotus Blade--thinking wild thoughts that somehow Kim had broken free--

--He found Tara prone on the porch, among the strewn candy--and a grade-school girl attired in a black sweater, green cargo pants, and a red wig.

He almost broke into an insane fit of mocking laughter. Fate had a grim sense of humor. A Kim Possible costume.

But he suppressed his urge.

The little girl was frantic. "I'm sorry, mister! I'm sorry! I knew that this was Mr. Stoppable's house! He saved my mommy's life, and I thought it would be cool to dress up like Kim Possible and come here!"

Ron took the distraught girl into a comforting hug. "That's okay, hon--that's okay. My grandmother was watching a--a scary movie."

The little girl sniffled. "What movie was it?"

Ron smiled. "You know, I have no idea. I was working in the basement."

Tara groaned--and began to mutter horrid delirious whispers--"Kim--no--please--!"

Ron reached over and laid a firm hand on her arm. "Grandma--you're okay--it's a Trick-or-Treater--like you said."

She lifted her head and stared wildly about.

"It's okay," he said softly. "I'm here." He sighed inwardly.

With a flash of insight, he understood clearly how terrible a burden rested on Tara's heart. She had tried to murder a dear friend--and stolen what might have been that friend's husband. She had lived under the reproach and hatred of her family--and now had to face the responsibility of creating a monster--and of saddling her family with its perpetual guardianship.

He winked at her--and smiled sadly. "Grandma, you know what the doctor said. You're not so young any more. You've got to be careful. You can't watch the horror movie marathons like you used to."

The girl babbled her apologies. "Mrs. Stoppable? I'm so sorry I scared you--Mommy's always told me how Mr. Stoppable saved her life--and how you and Kim Possible were cheerleaders together--and she helped me get the stuff for the costume--!" Big tears formed on the corners of her eyes.

Tara clung to her grandson's hand and struggled to sit up. She managed a weak laugh and opened her arms. "That's alright, Suzie. It's a lovely costume. You and your mother did a wonderful job."

Suzy whimpered. "Really?"

Tara introduced her grandson and Suzy Sheldon, who lived down the street, to each other.

And Suzy looked with wide eyes at Tim Possible's grandson. "Gosh--Kim Possible was your aunt?"

"Great-aunt," corrected Ron.

After a few minutes of starry-eyed staring and a heaping handful of candy, Suzy left the Stoppable porch for the short walk home. "G'night, Mrs Stoppable. G'night, Mr. Possible."

Tara kept a grip on Ron's arm as they both waved. "You've got an admirer, Ron," she said joshingly.

Ron chuckled. "Too bad she's underage."

It all seemed so surreal. Tara had just experienced the scare of her life--at least the biggest scare in the past forty years--and here with her grandson on her arm on what should have been a happy night--

--and close at hand was a fiend--a ghoul who had once been what the little girl was costumed as. A ghoul who would have massacred them all without hesitation.

Remorse filled the heart of Tara Stoppable. _What the hell was I thinking? Kim was my friend--we could've grown old together, showing each other our grandchildrens' pictures. I lost Ron anyway--and my sons. No one who knows the story will have anything to do with me--can I blame them? I'll lose my grandson, too--my grandson--he's the spitting image of his grandfather--_

And Tara staggered, clutching her chest. "Ronnie--"

"Grandma?" asked Ron, alarmed.

"Ronnie--" she gasped. "--Take me--to my room--please."

Instead, they took a quick trip to the Medical Center.

"Your grandmother is in extraordinary health, Mr. Stoppable," said the doctor. A sedative and a short-term admission for observation should take care of it. Still--she suffered a profound shock. And there's no physical reason for it. By her own admission, it's psychological. And she's being very tight-lipped as to the cause. Without prying--solely as her physician--I don't suppose you could enlighten me…"

Ron feigned ignorance--not very convincingly, he was afraid.

He spent a few hours beside her bed, grateful that she was sleeping. Then he went to the chapel, and in the privacy of the sanctuary, he prayed--and meditated--and activated his Ronunicator.

It was provided for him by Wilmont Load, son of Wyatt, son of Wynan, son of Wade. He was a boy genius, just like his father--just like all of them.

The Kimmunicator-style devices were made in various types, according to the preference of the user. Ron sometimes lost count how many of his cousins were doing missions. Some wore it as a medallion. Some as a wrist device. Some as a ring. Some as an implanted chip, with direct neural link.

Ron was very retro. His was in the original style, a handheld. He kept it in a leather medicine pouch around his neck, under his shirt, a custom he had adopted when teaching martial arts at a Lacota Indian Reservation school.

That very night, Ron Zimmer Possible logged onto the old Kimpossible-dot-com. It had been kept active, both as a memorial to the teen heroine and a place for people to post their requests for help. He watched the words scroll past.

KIM POSSIBLE

SHE CAN DO ANYTHING

AGENT FOR CHANGE TO SAVE THE WORLD

MIDDLETON HIGH SCHOOL

HIGH SCHOOL SENIOR

VARSITY CHEERLEADER

WORLD'S LAST HOPE

FEAR NOT

READY FOR ACTION

He remembered the stories from his grandfather Ron, for whom he had been named.

_She thought it was so cool--we both got new computers--actually, I got stuck with my dad's old one._

_And she asked me, "Hey can you get online?"_

_And I told her, yeah. I was researching hairless pets. My parents finally said I could get a pet, but no fur. And you'd be surprised at how many mammals have fur._

_She was making her own website._

"_What for?" I asked._

"_Baby sitting jobs and stuff," she said. "You know, helping people out…Ok, type in 'KimPossible-dot-com'."_

_I did. And I read it off. " 'Kim Possible, she can do anything.' Yeah, you know, it sounds a little braggy."_

_She was a little tweaked. "It's like a commercial, Ron. It's __**supposed**__ to be braggy."_

_I guess it was a bad sign. I started surfing the 'net all the time--when I wasn't with at Bueno Nacho--or with Kim._

_She had a tryout for Cheer Squad at the middle school. I was still looking for hairless mammals--and I found a link for naked mole rats for sale at the Smarty Mart Pets and Supply_

_I got Dad to advance me some money from my allowance--and I went to Smarty Mart._

_I named the little guy Rufus. We hit it off--like we could even talk. He looked like he could even use a computer. And that's when Kim's website came up again._

_I biked like mad down to the middle school. She was in the middle of Cheer Squad tryouts. I yelled my head off. "Kim! You got a hit on the site, a major hit!"_

_She groaned. Was it baby sitting the Turner twins again?_

_And I told her no. It was danger major._

"_Danger?"_

"_Someone needs your help--like now!"_

_Bonnie Rockwaller was majorly tweaked. "Kim, we're just starting practice!"_

_And Kim promised her. "Oh I know. I'm sorry. I'll never ever ditch again. I swear!"_

_Yeah. We know better._

_Mrs. Mahoney drove us to Upperton. Kim had gotten her cat out of the tree. It was this huge mansion with a wrought-iron fence and electronic gate._

_Kim didn't look uncertain too often--but she was that day. Was I sure that was the right address, she asked?_

_I was very sure._

"_I don't know. This seems like the kind of stuff the police should handle."_

"_Truth in advertising Kim! Your website says you can do anything."_

"_**Now**__ it sounds braggy. "_

Grandpa Ronald Adrian Stoppable used to tell the story again and again--with gentle laughter--but a tragic look in his eye.

And grandson Ron Zimmer Possible used to think--_he sounds like he still misses her--like he's still in love with her. I wonder how that squares with Grandma._

Suddenly, there in the chapel, he realized with a ghastly shock. _This was after Aunt Kim got loose! He wasn't mourning her death! He was mourning her change into that vile creature that lives under the gazebo!_

For the first time in his life, he watched hour after hour of audiovisual archival records compiled by Wade Load, in their totality.

He was astonished--awestruck--at Kim Possible's sterling heroine abilities. He had heard stories--from his grandfather Tim, from his great-uncle Jim, from his grandfather, from his Sensei.

But--like the description of Grandma Tara--the stories fell far short.

There was a special file in the Ronunicator drive. Copied from what was one of his grandfather's dearest possessions--Kim Possible's own diary. He sat down and read.

From her date with Josh Mankey:

…Drakken sprayed me with that mist--and I started disappearing! …But Ron got the Aurora orchid…

From the time before she met Erik Drake:

Monique says it's flawed. But what if Bonnie has, in her own stupid way, a point? What if there is something wrong with me? I'm weirding guys out! They see me on TV, round housing some goon out of a window. It's a vivid image. Monique assures me--I'm a strong, independent woman. She says anybody afraid of that isn't worth my time. Still--what if Bon's right? Is there anything sadder than going to the prom with your "just a friend'?

And after the Junior Prom:

…I was so bummed--the boy I was crushing on was a fake. And Ron said there was someone for me. I hardly wanted to hear about it. "Yeah? Somebody our there?"

He was real quiet for a minute. "Out there--in here--"

OMG! He meant himself!…

…We walked into the prom holding hands--and everyone--JUST STARED! Bonnie tried to do her put-down thing--but they all cheered!

The music started. It was the last dance of the Prom. A slow dance. He just took me in his arms. I felt so sad for a minute. The words of the song were "Can it be? You were always there." I started to say I was sorry for taking so long to see he was the one for me. But he just smiled and kissed me…

Ron looked up. Sunlight was filtering through the chapel window. He had been awake all night. Tears coursed down his face. He had one thought. As Grandpa used to say._ "Sick and wrong."_

It was reprehensible. Abominable. This wonderful heroine, this alive, glowing vibrant girl should be trapped in an irreversible zombie existence.

The words of the family motto since Zimm Possible rang in his ear. _Anything is possible for a Possible._

Who would be her agent for change? Who would save her world?

He had once heard something: within the heart of everyone is both the Image of God, and of His Adversary.

Grandma Tara had unlocked the heart of darkness within Kim Possible. In the ink blackness of that cistern--in the foul pit of Kim's soul--did the Image of God still dwell?

This family legacy. Standing sentinel for generation upon generation. _Someone has to do more than just guard her. Someone has to rescue her._

He decided.

_I will._

He fell to his knees. "Dear Lord. Please give me Your Strength--Your Love--Your Wisdom."

A verse of Scripture came into his mind. _Perfect love casts out fear._

The words of her admonition followed. _Fear not._

It was his answer. He stood to his feet. It was a call to arms. Like the blare of a distant trumpet.

It might be her last hope. But he would obey her word of encouragement--he would fear not.

The knight must go forth--he must rescue the Queen--he must prepare for battle--

_**to be continued**_


	4. Chapter 4:backstory,gone to his fathers

My friends--my readers--my brothers and sisters, both in the Body of Christ and in the family of Man. I hear you. As I sift through the dozens of reviews, the message comes through loud and clear. Why am I taking so long?

Trust me, it bothers me, too. I am continually writing--but sometimes it's only a few lines a day to a story. Days, weeks, sometimes months slide by--and the story just sits there.

I thought when I saw every episode to Kim Possible through Itunes and You Tube, the creative juices would flow--and they have, to a certain degree. But it is not a torrent. It's more like a leaky roof in a leaky roof in a rainstorm. You set your pots and containers out to catch the drips. Stepping out into the storm--too much. You get drenched.

As I state in my DeviantArt journal, following my divorce--I am living life in small doses--taking baby steps.

I spend many hours a day just sorting through my life--I'm one of those compulsive picture and video takers--and journal keepers. Or I hop on my bike and just ride--like Forrest Gump, just running. Or finding an empty church, and just venting at God--not shouting profanities at Him, but just walking back and forth, before the altar, speaking my mind--all my fears and frustrations.

Is this healthy, you ask? As I state in my FF-dot-net profile: name your own poison. What is it that obsesses you? What is your release from pain--your coping mechanism?

Part of it is writing. That is what brought both you and I here. As we both know, it is a double-edged sword. It can both free and enslave us.

But I digress. The Plot Bunny is a fickle critter. I attend to the needs of the little brat, and wait upon it for hours--days--even weeks at a time. When I started fan-writing, I figured it would be action sequences--and in some cases, I have--but most of what has come out has been like this--stories of human emotional interaction.

We come to another fork in the road in the tale of the Undead Kim Possible. Last chpt, I started a backtrack. This is now a backtrack on a backtrack. We go back further in time, to take a glimpse at a piece of the lives of our characters.

You will ask, how many years did Ron visit Kim via the old water pipe? I don't know. I haven't worked that out yet. This chpt came to me the day before I posted it.

The rough outline of the tale is already written--from beginning to end. It's just the minor details need filling in.

One of the reasons I like the Kim Possible show is because it's not a single character act. Like all good stories, there are a variety of people--so I hope you won't mind if a story about Kim doesn't portray Kim directly for a chpt or two.

Death is never easy to write about. But it will all happen to us. Being a cancer and divorce survivor has sort of brought that truth home to me. I don't remember where I heard it--some show. How we die is at least important as how we live.

As Lance Armstrong--another cancer and divorce survivor has said--Live Strong. As the Good Book says--{Numbers 23:10} Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his!

I know it's hard to do--living like each day will be our last--living so we'll have no regrets--and I don't mean partying like there's no tomorrow--I mean reaching out to people, making a difference, saying that word of love and encouragement--because the next time you turn around, their place might be empty.

LaaArtWrtr--you bring up a very good question. Why is all this happening to Kim? It reflects the bigger question--why do bad things happen to anybody? Why is there evil?

The short answer--God allows choice. Easy to say--hard to live with. And sometimes, the innocent suffer. You say, "I don't get it. What a cruel God to do that to someone." I would agree--if God just left it that way. But He promises a way out. I happen to believe He became a Human. I believe He speaks very quietly to all our souls. As Gandhi says, "Everyone who wills can hear the inner voice. It is within everyone." And I hope to tell in this story how Ron will bring his Aunt Kim back from the Dark Side.

And, to quote Kim's website--fear not. No offence taken.

whitem--Ron appreciates your faith in him. Speculation how he will do it is certainly encouraged.

Joe Stoppinghem, acosta perez jose ramiro, screaming phoenix, Mr. Wizard--thank you for the reviews.

Muzzlehatch--love the song you quoted.

Sentinel103--yes--he will be HER Ron.

To those who put this on their story fav and story alert: Game Ghost, Demonabyss, Xoroth, jocgame, greenzxr, Jonathan SCE, AttiXZaney-foreva, ScareGlow, mightyreader, Muzzlehatch, Charles Gray, flatliner15, Comet Moon, Daeron Blackoak, Sacred White Phoenix, daccu65, whitem, Sentinel103, ZoeyChase08, rufus3000, CajunBear73. Thank you all.

Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable, Tara, Yori, and Hirotaka are created by Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley.

Lon, Roy, and Kim Stoppable, Carl Stoppable, Ron Possible, and Lorrie Mankey are created by daccu65

Yori's last name is from captainkodak1's story The Lotus Bloom and is used with permission.

Yori's full name--Yoriko--is a traditional Japanese female personal name.

Vaya con Dios, y'all.

On with the show.

**_A HEROINE'S LEGACY_**

**_chpt 4_**

**_he has gone to his fathers_**

After his daughter's wedding that summer, Ronald Adrian Stoppable just seemed to stop caring about life.

His yearly Halloween visit to the pump room in the basement left him completely drained. He took to his bed

And his oldest son Alonzo--or Lon--knew time was short.

Since the night Kim Possible was accidentally freed from her prison for a brief few hours, Ron had lived apart from his wife--in the same house, but like workers on different shifts in the same factory.

The one would wait for the other to vacate the kitchen before coming in. They acknowledged each other by brief nods of the head. Or a mumbled "Hi". If they had to pass each other in the hallway, it was with mutual avoidance--like shunning a contagious illness. And the mumbled "Sorry".

Preparing for the holidays, it seemed like a pair of robots carrying out their programmed functions. Put the decorations up. Buy the gifts. It was a surreal dance. Each worked around the efforts of the other--without a single spoken word between them, neither friendly nor hostile.

She slept in their old master bedroom. He renovated the attic, turning it into a loft--like Kim used to have in her parents' home. Big windows looked out on the panorama of Mount Middleton. The décor was simple, like the old treehouse at his parents' home. A wooden plank floor, a sofa-hide-a-bed, a table with a lamp, and a shelf with pictures

Family and friends gathered at the home. Lon and his wife Lorrie. Lorrie's parents Josh and Liz Mankey. Lon's brother Roy. Tim and Jim Possible and their wives. Their cousin Joss from Montana.

And the newest couple. Lon and Roy's little sister Kim and her husband Ron--Tim and Karen Possible's son.

It had been the event of the summer in Middleton. Finally, the union of the Possible and Stoppable families. It seemed the entire city had turned out for the wedding. It was held in the back yard, as had weddings in Kim's maternal family for generations.

There were the bride's parents, Ron and Tara Stoppable. The groom's parents, Tim and Karen. Even the grandparents. Jim and Anne Possible, Rachel Stoppable, and Regina King. Both Ron and Tara's mothers were now widows.

Rabbi Katz was there. Not to officiate. The couple were married as Christians. But during the toasting of the couple, he pronounced a kosher blessing nevertheless.

The time came for the happy couple to take their first dance together. Then the rest of the wedding party. Then the parents of the couple. Then the entire assembly of friends and guests.

Lon kissed his sister's cheek as they danced. "Congratulations, sis. You make a gorgeous blushing bride."

And Kim blushed some more.

Roy kissed his sister's cheek as they danced.

"You're the holdout, Roy," said Kim. "Don't you ever plan on getting married?"

Roy shrugged. "Haven't found the right girl."

Mr. Dr. Jim Possible danced with Mr. Dr. Anne Possible. "I think I could die a happy man, Anne. I've lived to see a Possible marry a Stoppable." And a sad look came into his eyes. "I only wish Kimmie-Cub--"

Anne kissed her husband's cheek. "I know, dear," she said quietly. The tragic death of their oldest daughter by drowning a quarter century before was a wound that would never heal.

As the parents of the bride danced, Tara tried one last time to crack the ice between her and Ron. She looked up sadly into her husband's eyes. "Please? Won't you ever forgive me?"

Ron glanced past his wife. "Kim looks so happy today. It almost makes up for the _other_ Kim." And he shot a stern glance at his wife. "Ask **her** forgiveness. Then come talk to me."

Tara bit her lip and tried to restrain her weeping. She excused herself and went into the house.

The groom's mother Karen made her apologies. "It's all a little overwhelming. Last chick leaving the nest."

The guests nodded and sympathized.

Karen and Regina King continued hostessing.

Tara sobbed uncontrollably on her bed--what used to be **their** bed. It was the last wedding of their children. Never again would her husband take her into his arms--to dance--to embrace--to love. There was no more opportunity.

And underneath the picturesque gazebo where the wedding party had their table--under the manicured lawn--in a reinforced steel concrete cistern--pounding her skeletal fists on the walls of her prison--screaming obscene demented ravings--was a rotting undying monstrosity--the _other _Kim.

It had now been more than a month since Halloween. Thanksgiving had come and gone. Ron was visibly failing. They generally agreed he would not live to see Hanukah--or Christmas.

Along with the small trickle of friends who came by to visit him, there was one very special visitor--most welcome--at least to everyone but Tara.

Yoriko Kamsumi was now the headmaster of the Yamanouchi School. She appeared at the house dressed in red and white clothes of billowing sleeves, like a Shinto priestess. The years rested lightly on her. Her complexion was still flawless. Her hair was still jet black. Her almond eyes were undimmed.

All the Possibles and Stoppables bowed to her out of deepest respect. The twins Tim and Jim--Joss--the Stoppable sons Lon and Roy--all had been taught by her. A dignity that was almost royal seemed to emanate from her.

Without a word, they stood aside. She found her way up to Ron's room as though she had been born in the house.

But Yoriko and Tara met in a hallway. They greeted each other coldly. No one else was about.

Tara's eyes narrowed. "You're the ninja girl who came to Middleton High.--the one Kim was jealous of."

Yoriko's mouth became stern. "That was a lifetime ago, Tara Stoppable-san. I was a girl--as you were--and Kimberly Possible-san. We each were attracted to Ronald Stoppable-san. I am still a ninja."

Tara tossed her head. "I suppose you hate me as much as my husband and sons do."

Yoriko sighed. "You may indulge your self-abhorrence, Stoppable-san. Little good it does you--or me--or the man we both care for--or that poor creature who even at this moment sits languishing in darkness. I struggle as I have always struggled to detach myself from my baser instincts."

Tara gaped at Yoriko with a chilly stare. "What do you suggest I **should **do?"

Yoriko returned the bitter look. "That wisdom is hidden from me. I doubt it could be found in any human mind. It would require divine understanding. But if you had practiced a little self-denial, you might be as I am now--lonely, but without the awful reproach. And there would be no dreadful peril to your children--and your children's children--for ages to come. But a question has always troubled me,"

Tara flinched defensively. "And what's that?"

Yoriko gave her a withering stare. "Would you also have buried me--and anyone else--who seemed to you a barrier to your effort to win Stoppable-san's heart?"

Tara's face fell. She retreated, devastated. She scurried to her bedroom and quickly shut the door--not a slam, but still very audible.

Lon and Kim heard the noise and came.

Kim knocked on her mother's door. "Mom?"

"Go away," came the answer.

Lon bowed again. "I apologize for my mother, Sensei".

"Does your sister know the terrible secret, my Alonzo-san?" asked Yoriko quietly.

"No, Sensei," he said with humble respect. "Only my parents--and me--and my brother."

Yoriko laid a hand on his arm. "Your time draws near--when you must assume the vigil. It will be lonely and thankless. To be the guardian of all you hold dear from this unholy menace. What I have seen in my meditations, you and your parents alone have beheld with your naked eyes. May Heaven strengthen you, my Alonzo-san. There is no one I will pray for with greater fervency."

Lon nodded.

Yoriko hesitated before ascending to the attic. She knocked on the wooden railing. "My Ron-san?"

"Yori?"

At the sound of that beloved voice, all the formality of her age and vocation fell away. She was a schoolgirl once more.

Yori Kansumi came to Ronald Adrian Stoppable's deathbed with tears in her eyes. She knelt by his bedside and buried her face in his shoulder.

He was dressed in what looked like the same stripped pajamas he had worn to Yamanouchi more than thirty years before. "Yori!" He said weakly. "I've been thinkin' about you!" He tenderly stroked the smooth black hair.

She finally lifted her head. "My dearest friend! It is many years since you have made me laugh with your American style humor. Why did you not tell me you had grown so weary of life?"

Ron laughed softly and brushed the tears from her cheeks. "Aw, Yori--I didn't want to bum you out." He offered her a box of tissues from the bedside table. "C'mon. Blow your nose. Dry your eyes. Don't spoil that pretty face. Even though I'm glad the ladies still like me. Dying's a downer, but I dig being missed."

Yori laughed sadly. "Ron-san! Shame on you! You still love to tease me with your American style flattery!"

Ron grinned. "Yep! The Ron-man is all about teasing!"

They laced the fingers of their right hands. "So how do you feel, my Ron-san?"

Ron sighed. "There's no pain, Yori. I just feel wrung out. My motor's gonna idle to a stop. Nothing else left to give. My daughter is married off--to Tim's son. Lon wants to start a family. Roy thinks he'll just be a lifelong bachelor."

"And have you no desire to see your grandchildren?"

"Tell ya the truth, Yori--I've stayed alive this long for my kids. The night I had to carve up the girl I love--life just kinda took a helluva nosedive. I almost sealed myself up with Kim in the cistern. I would gladly let 'er tear me to shreds--or done the seppipu on myself--'cept my faith won't allow it--and I sure wasn't gonna let Tara raise my kids--not after finding out she was a little murdering fiend." He laughed. "Helluva sitch, Yori. The one girl I love is a ghoul on the outside and the other girl is a ghoul on the inside."

Yori sighed. "You were not able to restore your Kimberly-san with your Mystical Simian Power?"

Ron shook his head. "Nope--if I could, I would'a that night. Heck--I would'a switched Kim and Tara's brains--let Tara rattle her bones in the dark for a few centuries."

It was another few moments of gazing at each other.

"So, hey--" said Ron suddenly. "--Tell me about Yamanuchi. Hiro still there? Hittin' on the ladies?"

Yori rolled her eyes. "Hirotaka. He has a new number one girlfriend every month."

"Hah! A ladies' man! Just like the Ron-dog!"

"But, my Ron-dog-san--without your American style buffoonery."

"Well--naturally! The Ron-dog-man broke the mold."

Yori played with Ron's hand. "Make my laugh, my Ron-san. One of your stupid jokes. You have an endless supply. I know I cannot have heard them all."

Ron thought a moment. And grinned. "Okay--I got one. Here goes. What kinda cereal do you get when you run over a bird with a lawnmower?"

Yori looked appalled. "Shredding a helpless bird with a lawnmower?" She slapped his hand! "Ron-san! That is cruel!"

Ron smiled broadly. "Yori--that's the answer! Shredded tweet!"

She looked perplexed. She frowned and tilted her head. She mouthed the words. _Cereal. Shredded tweet. Shredded wheat._ And suddenly her eyes lit up. Her smile blossomed. She stifled a giggle with her hand. And a chuckle. In a moment, she was doubled over with laughter.

Ron smiled and sat up in bed. "Aha! You got it!"

Yori grabbed his pillow tried to muffled her laughter. And then she lightly swatted him with it on his chest. "Ron-san! That was a horrible pun! Oh! That poor bird! I will never forgive you! And I will never eat another bowl of cereal again!"

Ron shrugged. "Hey--the Ron-man just delivers the goods!"

Yori's laughing fit finally trailed off. Her face was flushed. She was breathless. For a moment, it was quiet again between them. She brushed a lock of blonde hair from his forehead. "You are the husband of another--and yet I love you, my Stoppable-san--my Ron-san. I have never loved anyone except you. The slightest strand of your golden hair. The briefest glance of your brown eyes." She began to weep. "It is futile to reflect how life might have been. The Lord Buddha teaches us--once we set our feet to the path, we must walk in the way set before us."

Ron reached up and brushed a strand of the ebon hair from Yori's forehead. "Oh, Yori."

"I will say this only to you. If fate had been kinder, you would have been a widower." She sighed. "But not only is your wife alive--even residing in this house. Your first love as well still lives and breathes."

Ron snorted. "Hah! I doubt you could call Kim living and breathing! Ya wanna hear the irony? She almost killed Tara! I got here just in time and prevented it--then I figured out who it was!"

"We are bound to our fates, Ron-san," said Yori quietly.

"I wish things could'a been different, too. If God or an angel or Whoever had appeared to me and said that if I let Kim go, she wouldn't be how she is, I would've taken that deal."

"You gave your heart fairly to Kimberly-san. Tara-san stole the feast of your love. But I, who have been famished all my life for even a taste of the meal, can hardly take what crumbs are left."

With the back of his hand, Ron stroked Yori's cheek. "Yori, the Kim that my heart belonged to is dead. But whatever love I've got left belongs to you."

Yori trembled and drew a sobbing breath. "Then I am content."

Suddenly Ron sat straight up in bed.

Yori was alarmed at his sudden burst of activity.

He patted the bed beside him. "C'mon, Yori--sit beside me!" There was a little boy eagerness in his behavior.

Yori hesitated for a moment. Then she slipped off her clogs and her outer garment with it's voluminous sleeves. Her garment underneath was like a short sleeved silk shirt. She sat next to Ron with her back against the sofa back of the hide-a-bed.

Ron drew up the covers over her legs. They held hands and snuggled together.

It was now evening. They faced the starry Colorado night through the open window. They felt the chill November breeze on them. They recalled old times--missions, battles, training, dates. They laughed and cried.

"Yori--I swear on my Bar Mitzvah certificate--on the Lotus Blade--I haven't felt this happy since I lost Kim. I thought my wedding day made up for it. No--I take that back. When my kids were born--and their first words--and their first Christmases--and their first Hanukahs--and their first steps--and their school plays."

"Oh, my Ron-san. You love her--I mean your wife."

"I love the girl I married--the mother of my kids. I don't know who the hell buried Kim alive. Just when I think I have it figured it out, it all comes apart. I had the Lotus Blade in my hand--the night Kim got out. I was ready to take Yamanouchi's holy sword and stick Tara like a hot dog on a fork. For just a moment--I was like her. The only thing that kept me from murdering my wife was my son watching. I could've planned it--like she planned to bump Kim off. But Lon would've known. That's the only way I can even begin to understand all this."

"My Ron-san--you are not a murderer at heart."

"I dunno, Yori. I think we all got it in us--if we really want to."

They whiled away some more time. "I wish this night could last forever, my Ron-san."

"Yori? Hiro tried hitting on you--any chance of that working out?

"Hirotaka-san takes much effort to appear a ladies' man. He practices seduction as seriously as he practices the ninjitsu art. He has two loves--the defense of the weak and his motorcycle."

Ron lay back down supine with his head on the pillow.

Yoriko snuggled against Ron and lay her head on his chest.

"Have kids, Yori--even if you gotta adopt. I always thought romantic love was like All That. But kids--family are what it's all about. That's what I learned outa life. I got the mad love for my kids."

She listened to his breathing and felt his chest rise and fall. She clasped his hand between her own two hands. She dozed off.

As the sun rose, Yoriko heard the birds chirping through the open window. She sighed. "Ron-san?" And she noticed. He was not breathing. The hand she was holding was cold.

With a start, she sat up and cupped her hand over her mouth to stifle a sudden sob. His face was pale and a small smile was on his lips.

Yori kissed Ron's cheek. "Sayonara, my love," she whispered. "Find your rest in Abraham's bosom. I will beseech your God that I may find you Heaven."

Somberly, Yoriko descended the steps from the loft. She greeted his family and gathered them about her as though they were her children. "My Alonzo-san--my Roy-san--my Kimberly-san--my Jocelyn-san--my Timothy-san--my James-san--our Stoppable-san has gone to his fathers."

Kim collapsed in tears. Joss took her into her arms, and Kim's husband Ron drew them both into his embrace.

"Tara-san?"

It was all for nothing," Tara whispered bitterly. "In the end, even his last hours belonged to someone else."

Yoriko put her hands on Tara's shoulders. "Tara-san--he spoke of his love for you."

Tara said nothing. She bit her lip, folded her arms tightly, and turned away.

Yoriko put a hand on Lon's shoulder. "My Alonzo-san--his last words concerned his supreme love for his children."

Lon swallowed the lump in his throat. "Sensei? Will you remain for the funeral?"

She shook her head. "No, my Lon-san. I must return to Yamanouchi. But a part of my heart and soul will ever remain in this house." She took his hand in both of hers. "You are now the sentinel--the Rotasu Sensei--the Lotus Master. I know you will not fail. I am as proud of you as if you were my son. Do not hesitate to call upon us in your hour of need."

Sensei Yoriko was stopped by Roy Stoppable.

"I want to go with you, Sensei." he said simply.

"What? Not staying to honor your father? To comfort your mother?"

Roy shrugged. "Dad's dead. And if Lon's gonna be a husband and father, somebody's got to pick up the slack. I'm willing to give up the whole family thing--after seeing things between my folks--well, let's just say, I can live without the hassle."

"This is a great sacrifice, Roy-san."

Roy shook his head. "Nah. Not really. Somebody has to pick up Mom's mess. Besides, she's got Lon and Kim here. She loved them more that me. To hell with her, anyway."

Yoriko rapped her knuckles sharply on Roy's forehead. "The first precept of the Path and the Bushido is respect for elders! If you wish to be deemed worthy to be a Bearer of the Blade--as your father and brother each have been in their turn--you will learn that!"

Roy bowed, chastened. "Yes, Sensei--I'm sorry about that."

As they left the house, Sensei Yoriko Kansumi took a glance in the direction of the back yard. A pang pierced her heart. _Alas, my friend, Kimberly-san. Like our Ron-san--I too would gladly be entombed in your stead._

Back at Yamanouchi, she sought someone out. "Hirotaka-san?"

Hirotaka bowed with genuine humility. "What are your instructions, Sensei Yoriko Kansumi-sama."

"I wish to bring up a certain matter you once tried to mention to me. Our Stoppable-san has gone to his ancestors. Does your proposal of marriage still hold?"

"_Hai._ Yes. It does."

"I know there will never be the love between us that might have been between Stoppable-san and Kim Possible-san. But out of respect for me, two things I ask--that I may keep my name--and that you will not shame me before my family and my students. If you feel you must take up your wandering ways with many women, I will not insist on the marriage vow. I will hold you free to leave."

Hirotaka nodded. "Hai. It will be as you say."

Yoriko bore Hirotaka's daughter. They named her Mariko. And Hirotaka remained a faithful husband and a loving father.

Back in Middleton, the grieving family and friends laid Ronald Adrian Stoppable to rest.

According to his duty, Lon Stoppable and his wife moved into Tara's home. He and Lorrie Stoppable had a son--Carl.

Ron and Kim Possible also had a son.

A son who would attend Yamanouchi. A son who would wield the Lotus Blade. A son in whose heart an impossible dream would take shape.

_This family legacy. Standing sentinel for generation after generation. Someone has to do more than just guard her. Someone has to rescue her. _

Against seemingly hopeless odds, Ronald Zimmer Possible would dare to contend with the monster Kim Possible had become.

_I will. God willing--I'll rescue her._

**_to be continued_**


	5. Ch5:home from the hospital & 2 helpers

I noticed a big "oops" after I posted the last chpt. It concerns our two Ron's.

In chpt 1, I refer to Ron Possible listening to stories from his grandfather Ron Stoppable--but in chpt 4, I refer to grandfather Ron dying before grandson Ron was born. (Sheepish grin.) That's what I get for glacially slow writing--without a beta. An ice age epoch between chpt's. I'm working on a rewrite.

All the dozens of reviews. It takes my breath away. Thank you all. I'll try to acknowledge you all more personally next chpt.

And I'm still wading through my 1000 plus unanwered ff-dot-net emails from the past couple years.

In the midst of all the horror and angst of this tale, I found a little bit of cuteness inserting itself--so I let it happen. Sometimes you plan out a story. Sometimes a new element sort of develops, and you say, "Let it grow, and we'll see what happens."

Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable, Mary Giereanu, and Tara were created by Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley. Tara and Ron's children, Lon, Roy, and Kim, Tara's grandson Ron Possible, and Lon's girlfriend-dash-wife Lorrie Mankey were created by daccu65. I added Ron's middle name, Zimmer. Suzie Sheldon and the descendents of Wade Load--Wynan, Wyatt, and Wilmont, were created by me. I got the name "Wynan" from the family of Gospel singers--the Wynans.

The opening nightmare scene contains dialogue from daccu's story, Family Legacy.

_**A HEROINE'S LEGACY**_

_**chpt 5**_

_**backstory: home from the hospital--the two helpers**_

The unspeakable shambling Thing in Tara Stoppable's living room shuffled toward her "You **killed** me Tara! I thought I had escaped, so I went home and what did I find? My room wasn't my room anymore and I saw **this--my face--in the mirror**! I didn't escape, did I? **You killed me, Tara! You took my life--so I'm going to take yours!"**

It stretched out Its leprous hands, grasping for her throat. She staggered back, until she bumped into a wall. To her immense relief, her beloved hisband appeared at her left, and her oldest son at her right.

"Get away from my wife!" demanded Ron Stoppable.

The Thing stopped cold. "Wife? You married Tara? **You married my murderer?** Ron, how? How could you betray me like that? I loved you! We were supposed to be together forever! Tara killed me, Ron! Why did you marry her? Didn't I make you happy?" It sounded pleading, almost servile.

The scene shifted. Tara was in a courtroom. Her husband was dressed in a judge's robe and wig, like in the British courts. Her son sat in the jury box, and the horrid Thing was on the witness stand.

It stared at Tara and pointed to Lon. "You had a child? While I was rotting in that pit, you married and had a child?"

Then Roy appeared next to Lon.

The Thing recoiled. "Two children? Wait--that wasn't a boys room I was in. So you must have a daughter, as well?'

Tara's youngest, Kim, appeared next to the two boys. "She named me after you, Aunt Kim," the little girl said.

Tara tried to speak. She raised beseeching hands. "Ron--Kim--kids--please--"

Her husband pounded the gavel. "The accused will be silent!" he said sternly.

The Thing rose from the witness chair like an avenging god and lifted its fists. "So this was the plan, Tara? You gave me a slow death and torment while you had a life and a family? **No more!** It's time for justice! I'll take from you what you robbed from me! I'll take your life--!" It pointed to the cringing figures in the jury box. "--I'll take your children!"

The scene shifted back to Tara's house. Her husband was struggling half-heartedly with It, grasping It's wrists.

"Don't do this, Ron!" It pled. It turned and faced Tara,. "She did this! I don't have anything against you! I'll take from her what she took from me and then I'll go. Don't stop my revenge!" It spat the words, like poison. Then It wrenched It's wrists free and lunged at Tara, the ghastly mouth agape, the hellish eyes blazing.

Tara screamed and covered her face. There was the sound of a swish and a _snick_ as though something had been cut. Fearfully, she opened her eyes. Ron stood in a warrior's stance, brandishing the Lotus Blade. The Thing's decapitated head was spinning like a top. It's headless body stooped and picked up the head by Its hair.

"You can't win, Ron," the Thing's head said, with a terrifying grimace. "I'm already dead. You can't kill me. I'll finish you, then your family will be next!"

In horrid unison, Tara's three children lifted their arms and leveled accusing fingers at her, their words like a sing-song chorus. "Mother--this is your fault--this is your fault--"

Tara's husband and the Thing did likewise, staring with unblinking eyes, reciting the woeful words. "--This is your fault--this it your fault--"

They surrounded her. Tara screamed and collapsed in a heap--

--Tara jarred herself awake. She stared wildly about for a moment. The morning sunlight filtered through the curtain and lit the pastel colors of the unfamiliar room.

And slowly, she remembered. Last night. Halloween Eve. Her yearly meeting with Kim Possible in the basement pump room. Uncapping the pipe. "Hello? Kim?"

And a Voice like a death knell reverberating in the room. "I haven't forgotten, Tara--or forgiven! I want **you**--and your **children**--and your **grand**children!"

And both poor mortals--Tara and her grandson Ron Possible--cringing like rats before an uncaged tiger.

And--Fate's final fiendish Trick-or-Treat--the Sheldon girl from next door--Suzie--showing up in a Kim Possible costume.

Tara kissed her wedding band and folded her arms to her breast, clasping her crucifix. "Oh, Ron," she whispered dolorously, "What have I done? To you? To us? To all our children? Please, God--if You're there--please let Kim find her rest. Do anything You want to me--but please let my children be spared."

The tormented woman sighed and wiped the tears from her cheeks. Her doctor had mentioned he would see her in the morning.

In the hospital chapel, a holy warrior rose from his knees and stood to his feet.

Ron Possible buzzed Wilmont Load--the son of Wyatt, the son of Wynan, the son of Wade Load. The close association of the families transcended generations. "Go, Wilmont."

"Hey, Ron. What's the sitch?" It was not the real Wilmont. Just a virtual clone. An automated artificially intelligent program designed to respond to queries.

"**Big** sitch, Wilmont. I want to compile an exhaustive compendium of literature dealing with free will, good and evil, demonic possession, and exorcism--from a variety of sources. Religion, mythology, theology, philosophy, psychology, medicine--the works. Dating back to the dawn of history."

Wilmont lifted an eyebrow. "Wow. Heavy reading, Ron. For when you're sitting on the commode? Or those lonely nights when you can't score with your girlfriend?"

Ron grinned. The virtual Wilmont had been programmed with the same sarcastic humor as the real person. "Hey--no backtalk from the Sock Puppet." He loved the insouciant young man.

And it was due to the efforts of Wynan and Wyatt Load--Wilmont's father and grandfather--that Ron had grown up knowing his grandfather Ron--but that is another story.

Ron would plumb every resource he could to help his aunt--both scientific and spritual.

This dilemma went beyond medical and physical science, Ron reasoned. An ability more than human had been bestowed upon him--the Mystical Simian ability of his grandfather--and Kim Possible's predicament bespoke mysticism.

The children of Ron and Tara Stoppable had been raised in the religious traditions of both sides of the family, Jewish and Christian. They continued the tradition with **their** children

And so, Ronald Zimmer Possible, son of Kim Stoppable and Ron Possible, while being a deep and committed Christian, also was attentive of his Judaistic heritage.

Plus, he was a scholar of all faiths. While he believed in one faith, he also felt that insights could be gathered from other faiths. He and Sensei Yoriko Kansumi-sama, a devout Shinto, had long and exhaustive discussions.

It was for that reason that he wanted to study every religious and sacred text he could, looking for some clue or insight that could help him solve his Aunt Kim's dilemma.

"So," asked Wilmont, "You want that organized like usual?"

Ron nodded. "Yep. Like usual."

There were various ways to configure how data was displayed. It could be projected as text on a virtual easel and let the reader scroll. Or converted to audio and listened to. Or even conveyed directly to the cranial lobe via direct neuro cybernetic link. Ron had a unique method--modern technology applied in an ancient manner. His Ronnunicator could project a holographic book. Using an ultrahigh bandwidth on the electromagnetic spectrum, the Ronnunicator could transmit an image through walls--very useful application on a mission--or even through the fabric of his shirt from his Lakota medicine pouch. The "book" was only an image suspended in midair. It had no weight or mass. Yet it was sensitized to his touch. He could manipulate it, moving the image to a different spot, even opening its "cover" and turning its "pages".

"_Your grandfather Ron," _his mother would say_, "He liked to read, but that was usually cookbooks and history of foods--cheese, for example. He admitted he was no scholar--but your father's side of the family--the Possibles--geniuses, every one of them. Great-grandpa Jim being a rocket engineer and Great-Grandma Anne a neurosurgeon. Your grandfather and his brother built rocket and launched satellites before they were in middle school._

Wilmont laughed. "So antique. When are you gonna go cyber?"

Ron laughed. "When you can have children."

Wilmont winked. "Dude--I'm workin' on that."

Ron shook his head. "Forget I asked. I do not want to know how you plan to make that happen."

"Aren't you ever tired of doin' things the old way?" asked Wilmont.

Ron shrugged. "Like the Yiddish say. Old is good."

Wilmont shook his head. "I'm not Yiddish. I wouldn't know."

"Thanks Wilmont. Later."

"Later, Ron. Wilmont out."

There were several notifications on the Ronnunicator call log. Aunt Lorrie. Uncle Roy. Mom. All of Tara's children--Aunt Lorrie calling on Uncle Lon's behalf. All of them concerned Ron would let them know later of last night's events--carefully omitting mention of Aunt Kim and the costumed little girl. Only Uncle Lon and Uncle Roy shared the appalling secret of the family legacy. It was an exclusive club Ron had been inducted into--with a grim initiation ceremony.

He glanced at the time readout. It was around the time for the patients to be served breakfast. Like every member of the Possible and Stoppable families for the past three generations, Ron had served as a Sunshine Spreader as a teenager. The medical center felt like home, even with the years he and spent at Yamanouchi, and the changes that had taken place. The place still retained it's tempo.

He left the chapel feeling a sense of exhilaration and triumph, as though the victory had already been won. He hastened to see his grandmother. In all likelihood she would be discharged this morning, unless a longer stay was indicated.

Both Tara's doctor and primary care nurse were in her room, giving her discharge instructions.

"Remember, young lady," cautioned her physician, "No more horror movie marathons. These special effects are much too graphic, in my opinion."

Tara listened with a mingled sense of irony and dread. A sight she had seen while her doctor was still a toddler surpassed anything he would ever imagine in dismal graphicness.

Tara looked up to see her grandson. She steeled herself. Her husband and eldest son had both forsaken her after that dreadful night. Her second son Roy stated plainly how he detested her once he learned. And now the son of her daughter--in whom her beloved husband came back to life--he in his turn would despise and hate her for a murderess.

But Ron kissed his grandmother on the cheek. "Have you had breakfast, Grandma?"

Tara shook her head. "I'm not very hungry."

Then I'll make you breakfast at home. Your favorite. Grandpa's naco omelet with cheddar, Colby, Swiss, and provolone.

Tara stared in astonishment. She had not tasted her husband's omelet in forty years. Not since the morning before that the awful Halloween of Kim Possible's escape.

During the cab ride home, Tara held onto her grandson's arm like a child who had strayed and then found her parent. _He's not casting me off--like I'm some condemned criminal. Maybe he's just putting up a front. In a week--or a month--he'll get tired o it and just treat me like a diseased life-form that should be walled up in a tomb--like I treated Kim--like I deserve._

But the gaze in Ron's eyes was warm and sincere. And Tara was bewildered afresh.

As the cab approached the Stoppable home, they noticed two things.

"Grandma--we left the house so quick last night, we forgot to turn the lights out."

--And--.

"Grandma--" Ron peered. "You have some visitors."

Tara squinted. "Why--it's Peggy Sheldon--and Suzie."

Ron was perplexed. "Suzie Sheldon? Our little trick-or-treater?"

Tara nodded. "The very same."

The cab stopped by the curb, and Tara and Ron got out. The older woman came from the front porch. "Tara! Oh, dear! Oh, good heavens! Suzie told me how badly she scared you! And then I glanced over and saw your house lights on this morning, and I was afraid something had happened! I came over earlier, but you weren't home yet!"

Suzie came with a container. Her brown hair with it's two braids was not covered by the red wig. "I baked you some cookies, Mrs. Stoppable." She shifted her feet apologetically. "I'm real sorry I scared you so bad. I hope this makes up for it. I just wanted to drop them off."

Tara laughed and gave Suzie a hug. "Suzie! That was very sweet of you. Why, it more than makes up. And I'm fine! Did you make these all by yourself?"

Suzie leaned her head toward her mother. "Mom helped--a lot."

"Well," said Tara, "Now that I'm back, would you two like to come in and visit?"

Mrs. Sheldon shook her head. "I'm afraid not, Tara. I've got an appointment. Today is parent-teacher conference day at Suzie's school. And we've got to go, young lady."

"Mom?" asked Suzie, "Can I stay?"

"Suzie! We don't want to impose," said her mother.

"Don't worry, Peggy, " reassured Tara. "She's always welcome. Oh, by the way--I'd like you to meet my grandson--Ron Possible. He just arrived last night from Japan. Ron--my neighbor Peggy Sheldon."

The shook hands. "Mr. Stoppable--this is a real pleasure. I knew both your parents, Kim and Ron. They were upperclassmen--and the most famous couple in school. That was certainly a storybook marriage."

"Thank you, Mrs. Sheldon. Yeah, they're still a couple kids in love."

"My grandmother was a classmate of your grandfather--Mary Giereanu. It's such a shame he died so young."

Ron stared at Mrs. Sheldon and his grandmother. "Yes, Mrs. Sheldon. I think I recall that name."

Tara nodded. _Yes, Ron_, she thought to herself, _you heard correctly_.

And Ron had to marvel at the complex tapestry of fate. He knew the name, as he knew all the details of his grandfather's life. Mary Giereanu. Ron Stoppable's brief high school crush, between his first brief crush over Tara and his brief crush over Zita Flores. No doubt one more raw wound on his grandmother's tormented heart.

And now a Giereanu great-granddaughter was unknowingly drawn into the drama of Kim Possible, however small the role might be. A twisting tale, fraught with sadness and surprise--and who could know what its end might be?

"I was about to fix some breakfast," said Ron. "It wouldn't be any trouble to make extra portions."

Suzie's eyes lit up. She looked beseechingly at her mother.

Mrs. Sheldon relented. "Well--all right. But I should be back here by noon to pick you up, Suzie."

Suzie nodded.

Tara walked into the house, leaning on Ron's arm. She even saw a few pieces of candy she had spilled last night when Suzie had inadvertently frightened her. _It never ends. Everything is a reminder of my awful deed._

Suzie came after, with the container of cookies.

Tara sat at the dining room table, collecting her thoughts.

Suzie set the cookies down, and, like a puppy, followed Ron into the kitchen. She gazed at him as intently as a kitten watching a ball of yarn.

Ron turned the knob to heat the stovetop. "Grandma--I need a frying pan, a mixing bowl, and a spatula--"

Suzie promptly went to the proper cupboard and retrieved each item.

"You were saying, Ron?" asked Tara.

"--Uh, nothing, Grandma." He half-smiled. "Thank you, Suzie."

"You're welcome, Mr. Possible," Suzie murmured.

"Suzie often visits," called Tara from the dining room. "She's very helpful."

"I'm noticing. Very helpful indeed. I can hardly wait to try a cookie." Ron winked at the girl.

Suzie blushed and covered a smile with both her hands.

"Suzie--have you ever had a naco omelet?"

Suzie looked puzzled. "I've had a naco--but never a naco omelet."

"Well--you're in for a treat. My grandfather invented the Naco."

Suzie nodded. "I know. I've read about it. Bueno Nacho paid him ninety million dollars. He wasted most of it. And Dr. Drakken stole the rest."

_This girl knows the family history better than __**I**__ do_, thought Ron, amused. "This might take a while, Suzie."

Suzie nodded absently

"Suzie, could you help me and shred some lettuce and cheese for the naco," asked Ron.

And while Suzie prepared the lettuce and cheese, Ron browned the ground beef, whipped the eggs, diced the tomatoes, and brewed coffee. Then he combined all the ingredients and rolled them into the soft taco shell.

Suzie set the table with plates, utensils, and cups. Coffee for the adults, orange juice for her.

Ron scooped the omelets from the frying pan to the plates.

Tara said the prayer. "Come, Lord Jesus, be our guest, and let this food to us be blessed."

They ate quietly. There was the clink of forks on plates and the sip of beverages. Suzie recounted the houses she visited the night before and how much candy she got. "And at one house, the grownups dressed up as Dr. Drakken and Shego. They gave out cupcakes with blue and green frosting. It looked weird but tasted okay."

Suzie chatted happily between mouthfuls. Ron winked at his grandmother and nodded with a smile toward the little girl.

Tara ate halfheartedly. It was her husband's cooking--more delicious than she remembered. And she had not tasted it in over a generation. The heartwarming scene--her grandson's love--Suzie's innocence--it almost covered up the memory or the rampaging shrieks and horrid threats flung at her just the day before. _This isn't right. I should be where Kim is--drinking filthy water and eating moldy bread--and talking to people through a hole in the wall._

The tidal wave of sorrow threatened to overwhelm her, like a flood washing over a dike. "Ron--Suzie--I'm sorry--I'm still a little tired. I think I'll just go to bed."

Ron rose from his seat as Tara stood up. "Do you think you'll want some lunch later?"

Tara looked intently at her grandson. Yesterday was the first time she had seen him in several years. The messy blond hair. The freckles. The wide ears and goofy grin. Ronald Zimmer Possible was in the flower of young manhood. He was the image of his grandfather come to life--the veritable likeness of the lad she had fallen in love with. "Some soup," she said."

"Soup it is. Grandpa's homemade chicken noodle."

His loving gaze. His warm smile. If Tara didn't leave the room now, she would burst into frantic weeping.

Ron kissed his grandmother on the cheek. "Feel better, Grandma. I'll bring you a bowl around noon."

"Hope you get okay, Mrs. Stoppable," said Suzie.

Tara nodded and went upstairs.

Ron noticed Suzie's empty plate. "Would you like another helping?"

She nodded eagerly. "Uh huh."

Ron dished out another helping. "You know, Suzie, there was a member of Team Possible who had an appetite like you."

"Uh huh. I know. Rufus, the naked mole rat. Heterocephalus glaber," she said between swallows. "Aisle sixteen, Smarty Mart."

Ron tried hard to suppress a grin. _Grandpa, you would love this girl. I was undisputed master of the Team Possible Trivia Game at Yamanouchi--but Suzie--she could be serious competition._

When the food was gone, Ron cleared the table. "Suzie, I was going to clean house today. After I did dishes, I planned on cleaning the floor.

Suzie's eyes lit up again. "I help Mrs. Stoppable all the time! It's so I can earn my Pixie Scout Merit Badge!"

And so while Ron was in the kitchen, he heard the whirr of the carpet-shampoo-vacuumer.

When he was done, so was Suzie. The dining room table was cleared off and dusted. The magazines on the coffee table in the living room were stacked. The floor looked immaculate.

And Suzie stood at Ron's elbow, looking up with big expectant eyes.

"Suzie, the place looks great! Thank you," said Ron.

"You're welcome, Mr. Possible," answered Suzie.

There was a moment of silence. Ron's little helper gazed up at him, awaiting further orders.

"Well, Suzie--" hedged Ron, "What else do you do to help my grandmother?"

"Sometimes we play games--Go Fish, Old Maid--like that. Or we ride bikes. Or we practice our Tai Chi--or our Kung-Fu--or our Maddog Cheers

"Aha. Like when my grandfather was a Sunshine Spreader--

And he helped Mr. Timothy North--and became the Fearless Ferret--and saved Ferret-Fest from White Stripe--and saved Kim."

Inwardly, Ron smiled. He yielded to his fate. He had obviously been adopted as a big brother--or surrogate dad--or puppy love crush. _But if she practices the Puppy Pout on me--I am such a goner_.

They played a game of Go-Fish and a game of Old Maid.

Want to see some Maddog cheers, Mr. Possible?" asked Suzie.

Do you know any?" asked Ron.

Suzie nodded. "Mrs. Stoppable showed me all the ones she did in high school."

"And did you know both my grandfathers were Maddog Mascots? And did my grandmother tell you I was on the Cheer Squad?" asked Ron.

And Suzie insisted on showing Ron all the cheer routines she knew--and on watching all the routines Ron knew.

They went to the back yard. Ron was seated on the steps of the gazebo. And then Suzie.

Tara heard the noise and watched from the upstairs window.

Ron saw his grandmother watching. He and Suzie both waved.

Tara waved back. And the idyllic nature of the scene warmed her heart.

But it made the hair on the back of her neck stand up to see Suzie sitting on the steps of the gazebo.

Fifty-five years before, Tara and Ron's wedding party sat on that gazebo. And Tara had an empty seat in honor of Kim Possible--who was presumed drowned in Moosehead Lake. And Dr. Anne Possible was given a seat at the wedding party table. She had wept, both out of grief for Kim and gratitude at Tara's "consideration".

The enormity of the state of affairs hit Tara like an avalanche. The girl Tara had "honored"--the girl Mrs. Dr. P. mourned--the girl Suzie had masqueraded as--that girl still existed--as a entity, not living, not dead--an abomination, whose depraved nature exceeded every lurid imagining. And what that entity would do to Tara--to Ron--to Suzie--if it ever broke free--

--Tara cupped her hand over her mouth and ran from the window. She vomited up the breakfast Ron had prepared, and then lay curled up on the bathroom floor.

"Please, God," she sobbed, her body bathed in cold sweat, "Please have mercy--on my family--on my friends--I beg you--!"

_**to be continued**_


	6. Ch 6:storytime,Izanami in the cisten

My man C.S. Lewis wrote in the preface to the Chronicles of Narnia: Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again.

His fellow Brit, G. K. Chesterton wrote: Fairy Tales are more than true; not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.

Aesop knew it. Isaac Asimov knew it. Ray Bradbury knew it. Walt Disney knew it. Fairy tale and mythology speak to people on their deepest level.

I'm an incurable fantasy geek--like anyone couldn't tell that by now.

In our own time, we've gone full circle. We've outgrown this postmodern anti-myth nonsense and discovered the timeless appeal of the classic story. Star Wars. Lord Of The Rings. Eragon. Redwall. The appeal of manga and super heroes. The list goes on and on. Need I say more?

The Kojiki, the sacred writings of the Shinto religion, were translated into English by Basil Hall Chamberlain in 1919 and can be found at the Internet Sacred Text Archive

I did some editing of the passage to make it a bit more readable.

A word of explanation. Ron tells Suzie two stories--that of Persephone and Demeter, and of Orpheus and Eurydice. This portion is in italics.

Then he reads to himself the story of Izanami. This portion is underlined. Do yourself a favor. Skip it--unless you're a mythology scholar. First read the recap that follows the story--then go back and read the text, to get the idea.

Now--back to sacred texts. Like I mention in my profile, I will draw upon a host of religious traditions for my stories. Monkey Fist had 'em up the wazoo. I will carry on the tradition. To paraphrase Ron Stoppable, I'm all about sacred texts

I encourage you all to look up the stories of Persephone, Eurydice, and Izanami, at Wikipedia, or the virtual or hardcopy encyclopedia of your choice. I think it will hit you between the eyes--like it did me, the incredible parallels between classic myths, and the story of the Undead Kim Possible.

This series of chpt's covers a short amount of time. I wanted to set the mood after Ron's first encounter with Undead Kim Have you ever made a big New Year's resolution and gotten all caught up in the excitement of the moment? And then woke up the morning after and asked yourself what possessed you? Like the people who had a Las Vegas wedding?

I'm on a roll here. A chpt a day so far this week. All my reviewers--y'all are the octane in my fuel. I'm just a slut for appreciation.

Let me answer one reviewer directly--and I hope this isn't a spoiler. Waveform: the spell that caused this has been bestowed to me by the muse--or plot bunny--or even divine inspiration. Not to sound too stuffy and sanctimonious, but I pray over my stories, that they might be spiritually edifying as well as entertaining. BUT--the spell is a secondary storyline, and is a ways off in the future. And I'm about that, I'm **mum**.

I have infused Ron Possible with a Christian faith--like my own. And I hope that's not too Mary-Sue-ish. My fav authors, Lewis and Tolkien, imbued their stories with content of faith and worldview, both explicit and implicit.

Let me explain what that means in practical terms of portraying magic and spell-age.

Christians are--by reason of the canon of doctrine--are by and large prohibited from using magic. Hence the big stink about some of my brothers in Christ and Harry Potter. Myself, I like the Harry Potter movies. As a Catholic reviewer and talk show host--Al Kresta--and someone of my brief acquaintance has stated--Harry Potter is an edifying story about the battle between good and evil--like Star Wars--like LOTR--furthermore, Harry Potter is about witchcraft like the Flintstones are about evolution. It's all in how you look at a thing. I know Wiccans who look at Chronicles of Narnia and see the paganism as paramount. I look at the Narnia stories and see the Christianity as paramount.

But back to Ron Possible. Being a devout Christian, his weapon against black magic is not white magic. His weapons of choice are prayer, holiness, and God's Word. How does this square with use of the MMP? I'm working on that.

Having said that, Ron's strategy will not be to sprinkle Kim with holy water--for example--but to wean her from her mad hatred of everything and everyone--you'll get my drift.

Two apologies--for boring y'all with one of my intellectual explanations--and for giving away any plot surprises. My kids tell me its one of my faults when discussing movies they haven't seen yet. (What a rush--giving away the plot to my own story)

Again with the disclaimers.

Kim Possible and her family, Ron Stoppable, Tara, and the Maddog Cheer Squad and Mascot were created by Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley. Tara and Ron's children, and Ron Possible were created by daccu65. The Sheldon family and Wilmont Load were created by me.

My man Richard Sirois, famous K.P. fan-artist, a.k.a. Lionheartcartoon, drew a pic at his Page of Fanatism: Kim and Ron reading a book by flashlight in a pup tent at one of their sleepovers. I have transposed that to my KimRon mythos. They grow up reading stories to each other in Ron's treehouse. It is a basis for my fic, The Lion, The Treehouse, and The Naked Mole Rat.

I know I've laid a lot of highbrow intellectual stuff on my readers with the excerpts of the stories--but I get jazzed when I read them and see how they apply to our red-headed heroine--and I want my readers to get jazzed, too.

When we meet our dragons--and our Izanami's--may the warm Presence fill our hearts. And if somehow we find that we have become an Izanami--let us remember there is Someone seeking our redemption.

_**A HEROINE'S LEGACY**_

_**chpt 6**_

_**backstory: storytime--Izanami in the cistern--the cold light of reality**_

Ron Possible was speechless.

Suzie Sheldon did her cartwheels and handsprings with the agility of the original Kim Possible. Plainly the girl had a career before her as a cheerleader--and a doer of missions, if she so desired it.

He even made a note to himself. _I've got to talk to Sensei about a 'Possible' admission to Yamanouchi--that girl's good enough to learn the ninja skills._

He asked her to wait a moment. Anyone who could put on as good a show as he had seen deserved to have the favor returned.

He went into the house, and up to his grandmother's room. He knocked lightly on the door. "Grandma?" he whispered.

"Yes, Ronnie?" answered Tara.

"Good. You're awake. Listen--I'm looking for Grandpa's old Maddog Mascot mask. Is it here at the house?"

Tara was apologetic. "You know, Ronnie, I'm at a complete loss. I think one of the Twins might have it--your grandfather Tim or your great-uncle Jim."

"Thanks, Grandma." He went downstairs back out to the yard where Suzie waited patiently on the gazebo steps. On the way, he contacted his grandfather Tim on the "Timmunicator" Hello, Grandpa?"

A beloved face appeared on the screen. "Ronnie! For heaven's sake, son! It's good to hear from you. Your grandmother Tara told us you might be getting into town! When did you arrive?"

"Just yesterday. Something came up and we had to go to the Medical Center for a short term admit. Grandma stayed overnight."

"I heard that. We're all concerned. Is she better?"

"She's fine. We got home this morning. But why I called--Grandpa Ron's old Maddog Mascot mask--I'm trying to track it down."

Tim thought a moment. "Ronnie, I'll tell you--your Uncle Jim and I donated it to the Museum."

Ron nodded. It was now part of the family legacy. When James Timothy Possible had passed on, his widow Anne Possible had gone to live with her son Jim. The old Possible house was converted into a Kim Possible Memorial Museum. Her old loft--her mission suits--her Cheer Squad uniforms--her Sloth--her grapple gun--the computer from her high school locker--Ron Stoppable's old scooter--in fact, everything associated with Team Possible--was now on public display. It was one of the most popular sites in the state, as famous as any President's birthplace, visited by people from all over the world.

"If I might ask, Ronnie," inquired Tim, "Why do you wonder?"

"Well," said Ron, "I've got a fan of Aunt Kim here, and I thought I would reenact the old Mascot routine for her. She's a neighbor of Grandma's"

Tim laughed. "Ah. You must mean Suzie Sheldon."

Ron exclaimed. "Grandpa! You know her?"

"She's practically a legend in her own right. She's the museum's most frequent visitor."

"Grandpa--If there ever was a future member of one of the adjutant Team Possibles--it's her." As Ron emerged from the house, Suzie perked up and made a beeline from the gazebo steps to his immediate vicinity.

"That's a Ronnunicator," she said simply.

For answer, he turned the device around so his grandfather and his guest could view each other on the monitor.

"Hello, Suzie," said Tim. "The family and I want to thank you for all the help you gave us last night on the annual Fright Fest before you did your own Trick-or-Treating. My grandson and I have been talking about you."

Suzie's eyes widened as her attention shifted from grandfather to grandson. Her cheeks blushed furiously, and she murmured a barely audible, "Tnank you, sir. It was no big."

"Later, son," said Tim, as Ron turned the com device so they could converse. "Sorry I couldn't help."

"Later, Grandpa," said Ron. "That's all right."

"Don't be a stranger. Your grandmother sends her love." And Tim Possible signed off.

Plainly, Suzie was fascinated with the piece of equipment. Ron let her hold it. The dimensions were different from the original Kimmunicator, but the coloration and basic configuration were identical.

You still use a handheld," she noted. "Kim Possible used a wrist one."

I'm very old-fashioned that way," said Ron. He slipped his Lakota medicine pouch from under his shirt around his neck and let her see it.

"If you'll allow me, Suzie, I'd like to show you something." Ron took the Ronnunicator back and pushed a series of buttons. There was a shimmering around his head--and his appearance abruptly changed.

"The Mascot Mask!" exclaimed Suzie.

"It's a holographic projection," said Ron. He then leapt over the startled girl and backflipped his way to the gazebo. He threw his head back and howled the Maddog Howl. Then he backflipped his way back to Suzie. Her eyes were wide with astonishment. He landed a few feet from her and shook his head madly. Holographic foam splattered from his jaws in all directions. Suzie squealed with surprise and covered her face with her hands.

Then Ron backflipped back to the gazebo. On the final flip, his pants seemed to fly off, revealing bright red boxer shorts with white polka dots. There was a shimmering, and Ron reappeared--fully clothed and sans Mascot Mask.

Suzie burst into helpless laughter. Then she stopped suddenly and crouched. "Oh, Mr. Possible--!" she blurted. "Can-I-use-your-bathroom?"

Ron nodded. She rushed into the house and came back a moment later, in embarrassed silence. "I almost peed my pants," she said quietly.

Ron smiled. "So did my grandpa," he said, just as quietly. "When the Maddog-Lemur game went into triple overtime."

Suzie giggled. "Ron couldn't leave the court. He got a little excited--"

Ron winked and offered her his hand. "--And accidents happen. The Maddog cannot be caged, leashed--"

Suzie's eyes twinkled and she put her hand in his. "--Or housebroken."

Ron shook her hand. "Booyah," he said quietly.

Tara sat by her window upstairs and overheard the interchange. She wiped her eyes and sniffled. Feeling of tenderness she thought long dead, such as she had not felt since the birth of her youngest child, Ron's mother, stirred to life. _He's my Ron--in every way--he's my Ron._

Musical chimes sounded from Ron's Ronnunicator.

" Call Me, Beep Me," blurted Suzie, surprised.

Ron grinned. He touched his hand to his chest, activating the com device in the Lacota medicine pouch, under his shirt. "Go, Wilmont."

"I got your reading material, Ron, " said Wilmont's voice.

"Wilmont Load?" asked Suzie."

Ron nodded.

"He sounds just like Wade," she commented

Ron nodded again. He set a finger to his lips.

Suzie nodded.

A huge holographic book appeared in front of Ron.

Suzie stared. It was as big as her.

"Thanks, Wilmont," said Ron.

"Anything else, Ron?" asked Wilmont.

"That'll be all for now, " said Ron.

"Alright. Enjoy your reading. Wilmont out."

"Gosh," said Suzie, awestruck. "That's a big book, Mr. Possible. Don't most people use a handheld to read stuff?"

He grinned and tapped his chest. "I have a handheld, too. It's what's generating this image."

The little girl was at Ron's elbow. He opened the giant volume somewhat cautiously. Text and pictures of the subject matter he was studying might not be appropriate for young eyes--but this page looked safe.

Suzie peered at the page. "Per--Per--." She glanced up at Ron. "It looks like 'Purse-phone'."

"Persephone. It's pronounced 'Per-sé-fo-nee'. Do you know the story?"

"It's a Greek myth, isn't it, Mr. Possible?"

Ron nodded. "Yes, it is."

"Could you tell me the story?"

Ron touched the com again. "Time," he said quietly.

"Ten-ten a.m.," said a flat monotonic Wilmont voice.

He spoke to the girl. "I could tell you the story while I'm fixing chicken soup for Grandma. Would that be okay?"

Suzie nodded.

Ron tapped the Ronnunicator, and the book faded from view. He would punch up the display again in the kitchen.

There were frozen chicken parts thawing out in the refrigerator and a batch of raw dough in a cloth-covered bowl. Ron would boil the chicken to make the broth and make the pasta out of the dough.

He reactivated the book. Suzie sat on a chair she brought in from the dining room. He floured his hands and kneaded the dough. "Do you ever do this at home?" he asked Suzie.

"Sometimes I help Mommy or Daddy," she said. "Daddy and I have flour fights. Mommy gets tweaked, so we don't do that stuff too much."

Ron grinned. _Yeah. Just like Aunt Kim and Grandpa._ He only half looked at the book while reciting the story and rolling out the pasta with the rolling pin. Like many stories, it lived in his heart.

_Persephone was the daughter of Demeter, goddess of the harvest_

_Unlike the other gods, Persephone stayed away from Olympus, the home of the gods. She wandered the world, carefully tending young growing things._

"--Sort of like Kim Possible doing missions," said Suzie, "And Mrs. Dr. P. was like Demeter."

_Many gods sought her hand in marriage. Demeter, jealous of her daughter's innocence, rejected all their offers._

"--Sort of like Mr. Dr. P.," interjected Suzie again. "No boys for his Kimmie-Cub."

Ron did not resent such interruptions. In his time as a student teacher, he learned it was a sign of the student connecting with the lesson.

_But Hades, god of the souls of the dead in the underworld, rode to the surface of the world in his black chariot. A chasm opened and he abducted Persephone, taking her back to his subterranean kingdom._

_Demeter wandered the world, heartbroken, looking for her missing daughter. She neglected growing things, and there was famine. The prayers of the mortals ascended to Olympus._

_Finally, Helios, whose chariot drove the sun, and who beheld all things, told Demeter what had occurred. And Demeter went to Zeus, king of the gods and Hades' brother. Zeus, moved by the prayers of humanity and Demeter's demands, commanded Hades to give up Persephone to the custody of Hermes, the messenger, so she could be returned to her mother._

"They took too long to decide," said Suzie. "Kim would be tweaked."

"Agreed," said Ron. "She would say it was essential Ron-ness--spending too much time marinating."

_But before, releasing her, Hades prevailed on Persephone to break her fast--she had eaten nothing during her captivity._

_But it was a trick. The Fates, mistresses of destiny, had decreed that whoever ate food in the underworld, must stay._

_Persephone had eaten only a few pomegranate seeds--so she had to return for a season every year. It was in this season the earth became barren again, as Demeter grieved._

That's really unfair," said Suzie. "Kim could do anything. I bet she would've figured a way to fix it."

Ron shrugged, "Maybe--maybe not. Would you like another story?"

Suzie nodded eagerly.

The pasta was almost done drying. In another few minutes, he would cut it into narrow strips and start the boiling water to cook it.

Ron realized something. This was like Grandpa as a teenager when he was big brother for baby sister Hana. Or like when Team Possible did shows for the children's ward at the hospital. Or like when Ron Possible himself taught the kids at the Lacota reservation.

Sensei Yoriko herself had told him. _"Your grandfather's last words to me, my Ron-san--'Have kids, Yori--I got the mad love for my kids'."_ Would he ever have kids? His own? Even as a guardian for his fearsome Prisoner?

Ron sighed. He knew what Sensei would say--whatever is ordained.

A melancholy mood came upon him. He began to recite the story of story of Orpheus, the musician. It was a sadder tale than the one of Persephone.

_Orpheus was born in Thrace, north of Greece, the son of Calliope, the Muse of music. The god Apollo gave him a golden lyre when he was young._

_Animals danced when he played his lyre and sang. Trees grew. Rivers changed their course._

_Orpheus was also a famous hero. He had gone with Jason and the Argonauts to fetch back the Golden Fleece. His playing drowned the song of the Sirens, that bewitched sailors and caused ships to sink on the sharp rocks of their islands._

_Orpheus fell in love with Eurydice, a Dryad of the oak trees, and a daughter of Apollo. They married. And on the day of their wedding, he was playing his lyre and she was dancing with the Naiads. A satyr mischievously chased her, and she stepped on a nest of vipers._

_Eurydice, the beloved bride of Orpheus, was fatally bitten._

_The stricken husband played a song that made the gods and nymphs weep. They counseled him to go to the Underworld, and reclaim his wife's soul._

_Was it well-advised? The power of Orpheus's song surpassed their wisdom._

_And so Orpheus dared to undertake the journey to the Underworld. It was the same journey Hermes took to fetch back Persephone. It was the same journey every departed soul made. But Orpheus was a mere mortal, still in the living flesh. He had to face Charon, the grim skeletal ferryman who escorted souls across the River Styx. He had to face Cerberus, the monstrous three headed hound who guarded the entrance. His music pacified them all._

_At last he stood in the awful presence of the god himself. Hades, the Iron King and his unwilling queen, Persephone._

_Orpheus played the lyre with all the skill Apollo had taught him, and with all the love for Eurydice that was in his heart._

_The Erinyes, whom the Romans called the Furies, the stern remorseless spirits who tormented and hounded evildoers, bowed their heads and cried._

_Persephone, who knew what it was to be deprived of warmth and love, laid a gentle hand on her husband's arm._

_And at last the stony heart of Hades was moved to pity. No other mortal had ever before done such a deed, or would ever do such a deed again._

_Orpheus's request was granted him. He won the soul of Eurydice. She could accompany her husband back to the living world above--but he must not look upon her until they came to the surface. _

_Eurydice followed her husband back to the surface. The temptation to turn and feast his eyes was almost unbearable. But Orpheus heard her voice behind him, warning him not to give in._

_At last they reached the portal. As Orpheus stepped into the sunlight, he at once turned back to look--but Eurydice was still in the cavern. To his horror, his last glimpse of her was her ghostly form being drawn back like mist into the tunnel, a look of dismay on her face. Then the cave sealed shut._

Suzie listened without interruption. Her eyes glittered with moisture and her mouth was turned down in a sad pout. "Mr. Possible--that's really sick and wrong. They should've had a happy ending."

Ron squatted so he was on eye level with her. "The ancient Greeks used to say that sad stories were like a laxative--like prune juice. You had to take some once in a while to purge your system. To clean it out. They said sad stories purified the soul. They called it catharsis. Do you understand?"

She nodded. "I think so. It's like when people get constipated."

Ron smiled sadly. "Yeah--kind of like that."

"What happened to Orpheus, Mr. Possible?"

Ron shrugged. "He died--like all people."

"So he got to be with his wife again."

"Maybe--some of the old stories say he and Eurydice were forever separated. I hope not. But not all stories end happy, Suzie. My Aunt Kim disappeared. Her body was never found."

There was a moment of silence. "I bet Ron really missed Kim," said the girl.

"I bet he did too."

"Do you miss your Aunt Kim?"

Ron thought of the encounter he had with a Voice from Perdition last night in the basement of that very house--and the encounter with a regal Warrior Queen in the hospital chapel. "She disappeared before my parents were born. And my Grandpa died before I was born--but I miss them both."

There was a knock at the front door. It was Peggy Sheldon.

Ron went to the door. "Come in, Mrs. Sheldon," he said.

"Mommy!" said Suzie.

Mrs. Sheldon embraced her daughter. "I missed my Suzie-Kins."

Suzie rolled her eyes. "Mommy--please. I'm so not a child."

Ron winked. "Like Mr. Dr. P.'s Kimmie-Cub?"

"Mr. Possible, I hope this wasn't an imposition," said Mrs. Sheldon.

Ron assured her. "It's been a wonderful morning. You can be very proud of your daughter, Mrs. Sheldon. She's an amazing young lady."

"We've always known that. Suzie, you've aced all your courses. Your teacher tells me you're her best student."

Ron nudged the girl. "Way to go Suzie-Kins--or do I call you 'S.S.'? Like Ron called Kim 'K.P.?"

For the umpteenth time that morning, the girl blushed--but her brown eyes danced like sun glinting on the water.

"Suzie, we should get home," said her mother. "Mr. Possible, thank you again. Will you be around often?"

Ron nodded. "I'm back from Japan. I'll be living here for the foreseeable future.."

Suzie didn't say a word, but her eyes flew open. She tried unsuccessfully to conceal her excitement. She hugged Ron around his chest.

Ron grunted. _This girl works out. She had quite a grip._

He waved to them both as they walked to their home. Suzie looked back longingly over her shoulder.

Ron closed the door behind him, and returned to the kitchen.. He glanced briefly at the giant holographic book that was still open to the page. Ron had not told Suzie the complete story. He thought it best.

_After the loss of his wife, Orpheus forsook all the gods--except his beloved Apollo. And in spite of his youth, charm, and beauty, he never sought to be married again._

_Many daughters of kings and lords would gladly have been his wife. And many rich widows sent him regards and tokens of affection. He ignored them all._

_The gods understood--all but one. Dionysus._

_Dionysus, the god of wine and fermentation, and dramatic performance, was known for his capriciousness. He was a fickle god, afflicting his enemies and worshippers alike with madness. Like Orpheus, he too was a handsome youth, with a mixed parentage--but instead of a mortal father and immortal mother, Dionysus had a divine father--Zeus--and a human mother, '_

_Semele. When his aunts doubted his divinity, he caused them to attack and devour their own children._

_He gathered about him women enamored with his beauty, and filled them with his wild unrestrained spirit. The met in the woods and held festivals, bachanalles, named after his Roman name, Bacchus. They would tear apart the sacrificial bull and eat its flesh raw. They would claw at the earth with their fingernails and cause honey and wine to flow from the furrows. They called themselves the Maenads. and woe to any--man or beast--who tried to spy on them. Intruders were treated just like the sacrificial animal._

_Like so many others, both human and divine, the Maenads tried to woo Orpheus. When he refused their advances, they hurled sticks and stones at him. But as so often happened, his music protected him from harm_

_Finally, they descended into their frenzy. The Maenads tore Orpheus to pieces and threw his body in a river._

_As the fragments flowed out to sea, the Muses gathered them up and buried them_

"This kind of story is a little too much for little girls," said Ron to himself.

But he himself began to see the similarities. The spurned lover--his grandmother Tara--like both Hades and the Maenads--had resorted to drastic measures. She had resorted to murder--like Dionysus. The comparisons were not perfect. As with life, there was infinite variety, and no story ever repeated itself with exact duplication. But the universal motivations always appeared--love--hate--jealousy.

And like Demeter--Ron would have to search for a way to break the spell. Like Orpheus--he would have to still the angry spirit of his aunt. Like Persephone--like Eurydice--the heroine must be rescued.

Time to get Grandma's soup up to her. Ron drained the pasta. He set the kettle on to brew her some tea.

_My poor Grandma,_ he thought to himself. _How awful it must be to have everything remind you of a terrible menace living under your feet--even a little neighbor girl._

Ron returned to his book. He absently flipped ahead a few pages. It fell open to the Kojiki. He began casually reading--and froze in mid movement.

He had often delved into the Kojiki while he was at Yamanouchi. But he had forgotten about this particular narrative--and what he read chilled his heart

The names of the deities that were born in the Plain of High Heaven when the Heaven and Earth began were …

The names of the deities that were born next were the Earthly-Eternally-Standing deity; next, the Luxuriant-Integrating-Master deity. These two deities were likewise deities born alone, and hid their persons. The names of the deities that were born next were the deity Mud-Earth-Lord; next, his Younger sister the deity -Mud-Earth-Lady; next, the Germ-Integrating deity; next, his younger sister the Life-Integrating-Deity; next, the deity of Elder-of-the-Great-Place; next, his younger sister the deity Elder-Lady-of-the-Great-Place; next, the deity Perfect-Exterior; next, his younger sister the deity Oh-Awful-Lady; next, the deity **Izanagi or the Male-Who-Invites**; next, his younger sister **Izanami or the deity the Female-Who-Invites**.

From the Earthly-Eternally-Standing deity down to the deity the Female-Who-Invites in the previous list are what are termed the Seven Divine Generations.

Hereupon all the Heavenly deities commanded the two deities His Augustness the Male-Who-Invites and Her Augustness the Female-Who-Invites, ordering them to "make, consolidate, and give birth to this drifting land." Granting to them a heavenly jeweled spear, they thus deigned to charge them. So the two deities, standing upon the Floating Bridge of Heaven pushed down the jeweled spear and stirred with it, whereupon, when they had stirred the brine till it went curdle-curdle, and drew the spear up, the brine that dripped down from the end of the spear was piled up and became an island. This is the Island of Onogoro.

Having descended from Heaven on to this island, they saw to the erection of a heavenly august pillar, they saw to the erection of a hall of eight fathoms. Then Izanagi, the Male-Who-Invites, said to Izanami, the Female-Who-Invites, "We should create children"; and he said, "Let us go around the heavenly august pillar…

…So…they…went round the heavenly august pillar. 

Thereupon his Augustness the Male-who-Invites spoke first: " Ah! what a fair and lovely maiden!" 

Afterward his younger sister Her Augustness the Female-Who-Invites spoke: " Ah! what a fair and lovely youth! " 

Next they gave birth to the Island of Futa-na …Next they gave birth to the islands of Mitsu-go …Next they gave birth to the Island of Iki…The name of "Land-of-the-Eight-Great-Islands" therefore originated in these eight islands having been born first…(Six islands in all from the Island of Ko in Kibi to the Island of Heaven's-Two-Houses.)

When they had finished giving birth to countries, they began afresh giving birth to deities…(Ten deities in all from the deity Great-Male-of-the-Great-Thing to the deity Princess-of-Autumn.)…

Next, they gave birth to the Fire-Burning-Swift-Male deity, another name for whom is the deity Fire-Shining-Prince, and another name is the deity Fire-Shining-Elder.

Through giving birth to this child her august private parts were burned, and she sickened and lay down…

…So the deity the Female-Who-Invites, through giving birth to the deity of Fire, at length divinely retired. …

…So then His Augustness the Male-Who-Invites said: " Oh! Thine Augustness my lovely younger sister' Oh! that I should have exchanged thee for this single child! " And as he crept round her august pillow, and as he crept round her august feet and wept…So he buried the divinely retired deity the Female-Who-Invites on Mount Hiba, at the boundary of the Land of Idzumo and the Land of Hahaki…

…Thereupon His Augustuess the Male-Who-Invites, wishing to meet and see his younger sister Her Augustness the FemaleWho-Invites, followed after her to the Land of Hades. So when from the palace she raised the door and came out to meet him, His Augustness the Male-Who-Invites spoke, saying: "Thine Augustness, my lovelv younger sister! the lands that I and thou made are not yet finished making; so come back! " 

Then Her Augustness the Female-Who-Invites answered, saying: " Lamentable indeed that thou camest not sooner! I have eaten of the furnace of Hades. Nevertheless, as I reverence the entry here of Thine Augustness, my lovely elder brother, I wish to return. Moreover, I will discuss it particularly with the deities of Hades. Look not at me!" Having thus spoken, she went back inside the palace; and as she tarried there very long, he could not wait. 

So having taken and broken off one of the end-teeth of the multitudinous and close-toothed comb stuck in the august left bunch of his hair, he lit one light and went in and looked. Maggots were swarming, and she was rotting, and in her head dwelt the Great-Thunder, in her breast dwelt the Fire-Thunder, in her left hand dwelt the Young-Thunder, in her right hand dwelt the Earth-Thunder, in her left foot dwelt the Rumbling-Thunder, in her right foot dwelt the Couchant-Thunder -- altogether eight Thunder-deities had been born and dwelt there. 

Hereupon His Augustness the Male-Who-Invites, overawed at the sight, fled back, whereupon his younger sister, "Her Augustness the Female-Who-Invites, said: "Thou hast put me to shame," and at once sent the Ugly-Female-of-Hades to pursue him. …. Again, later, his younger sister sent the eight Thunder-deities with a thousand and five hundred warriors of Hades to pursue him. So he, drawing the ten-grasp saber that was augustly girded on him, fled forward brandishing it in his back hand…and as they still pursued, he took, … and smote his pursuers therewith, so that they all fled back. …

… Last of all, his younger sister, Her Augustness the Princess-Who-Invites, came out herself in pursuit. 

So he drew a thousand-draught rock, and with it blocked up the Even-Pass-of-Hades, and placed the rock in the middle; and they stood opposite to one another and exchanged leave-takings ; and Her Augustness the Female-Who-Invites said: "My lovely elder brother, thine Augustness! If thou do like this, I will in one day strangle to death a thousand of the folk of thy land." …

…So Her Augustness the Female-Who-Invites is called the Great-Deity-of-Hades. Again it is said that, owing to her having pursued and reached her elder brother, she is called the Road-Reaching-Great deity."' Again, the rock with which he blocked up the Even-Pass-of-Hades is called the Great-Deity-of-the-Road-Turning-back, and again it is called the Blocking-Great-Deity-of-the-Door-of-Hades. So what was called the Even-Pass-of-Hades is now called the Ifuya-Pass in the Land of Idzumo.

The style was very formal and ceremonial--just like the observance of manner and custom in traditional Japanese society--as it had once been in western society. But the story was dreadfully graphic.

In the beginning of the world, the Kotoamatukami--the Distinguished Gods Above were born first--they were restricted to Takamanohara, the High Heaven. Next were born the Seven Divine Generations. The last of these two were Izanagi and Izanami.

The Divine Couple stirred the sea with the , the long-bladed spear, the Ame-no-nuboko. The water dropped from the spear and made the first island, Onogoroshima. They descended to earth on the Heavenly Bridge, the .Ame-no-Ukiah.

They conducted the marriage ceremony by performing the dance around the Heavenly Pillar, Ame-no-mihashira.

.The first children Izanami bore were the ohoyashima, the islands of Japan. The next children she bore were the forces of nature.

But Izanami was fatally injured during the birth of Kagututi, the Fire God, and she died.

In grief, Izanagi buried her. Then he went to Yomi, the land of the dead, to reclaim his darling wife.

She met him in the dark. Like Persephone, she had already eaten a meal. And she commanded her husband that, like Orpheus, he should not look upon her.

But like Orpheus, Izanagi disobeyed. He took a tooth from his ornamental hair comb and lit it for a torch--and he found his beloved Izanami to be a walking, talking, decaying corpse, crawling with worms and possessed by demons.

He fled in horror. And she pursued him, with the demons and the Shikome, the vengeful female spirits of Yomi, also giving chase.

Izanagi blocked the opening to Yomi with a giant boulder. And Izanami, now trapped, threatened to kill his children should she ever escape.

The parallels to Kim's dilemma shouted at Ron. It was all here. His grandfather defending himself with the Lotus Blade--"the ten-grasp saber". Sealing up the cistern. Kim's efforts to kill the entire Stoppable family.

Kim was not a trapped soul--like Persephone--or Eurydice. Or even a stern overlord like Hades. Kim was a berserk frenzied --_thing_--like the Shikome who pursued Izanagi--like the Maenads who killed Orpheus--like the Harpies--yearning to devour Tara Stoppable's children.

The burning passion Ron had felt in the hospital chapel evaporated. Bleak despair gripped his heart. It was a rude wake-up call. His sense of victory earlier that morning was very premature.

His Aunt Kim was no longer the lovely girl and dynamic heroine of the stories and audio video records. She was now a vengeful Goddess of Death----like Medusa--like the Jewish Lilith--like the Hindu Kali--like the Nordic Hel--like the Japanese Izanami. A hideous demonic Undead creature--desiring the life of the living. In his mind, he could recall the awful terrifying screams that thundered in the pump room the night before.

Quaking like a leaf, Ron dropped to his knees and whispered a desperate prayer. "Our Father, Who Art in Heaven--mercy, Lord--have mercy--deliver me from this rash vow!" In the extremity of the moment, the words of his Lord at Gethsemane spilled from his lips. "Please, Father--let this cup pass from me."

A warm and sweet Presence stole over him, and a Voice spoke to his heart, stilling the memory of the ghoulish shrieks. _I am with you always. My grace is enough. The battle is Mine, not yours. My strength is made perfect in your weakness._

The paralyzing fear passed. The tea kettle was whistling. The soup was simmering.

The future path was clear--no quick and easy victory before the admiring multitudes. No glorious triumph for the noble knight, clad in shining armor, with drawn sword, proud steed, and waving banners. It was the path of the squire--inglorious--demeaning--the way of the servant. A path that would lead Ron to his own Yomi, darker than his worst nightmare--but, like Izanagi's torch, his Lord's Light in his heart would illumine the way.

Ron stood to his feet on shaky legs. He had Grandma's lunch to prepare. Then he would resume his studies--for a greater preparation--

_**to be continued**_

Yeah. I dumped some heavy stories on my readers. Still with me for the ride?

There were many more elements I could've drawn from the myths--but I'll save those for future chpt's--provided y'all like this sort of stuff.

Some afterthoughts. It's confusing that the god and goddess in the Japanese myth have such similar names. His name is IzanaGi--like GUY--and her name is IzanaMi--like MRS.--if that helps.

I had a girlfriend in college who was a devout feminist. Female stereotypes bothered her. Some women might be bothered by the submissive pious female, like the St. Mary, the Blessed Mother of Christ. Or the helpless female, like typical fairy tale princess, who needs the prince to rescue her from the dragon. Or the b!tchy demonic females, like Medusa, or Kali, or Lilith, or Izanami. Some take the b!tchy demonic females as role models.

Many women are drawn to K.P. because she represents a strong woman who doesn't need her man to define her. Some even resent the series finale for Ron pulling a Mystical Monkey Power Deus ex Machina to save Kim from the Lowardians.

I think I understand all these points of view, and wish to antagonize no one inadvertently. My goal is to put my own spin on what I think is a compelling story--Kim as an Undead and Ron's efforts to help her find her release. Any mythic archetype I bring to my story is for the purpose adding to its dramatic effect.

But, to be honest, I've already given myself away. It is my belief that many of these mythic archetypes offer insight into spiritual truths and psychological realities.

Feel like contesting? Let me know in a review, or PM--and I will try--in my glacially slow and dysfunctional manner--to respond.

I grooved on mythology as a kid. And my reading has led me to many similar tales. The Mayan myth of Itzamna and Ix Chel. The Indian myth of Savitri and Satyavan. The Sumerian myth of Inanna. And I will incorporate them all into the tale of the heroine's legacy.

Until next chpt--vaya con Dios, my friends.


	7. Chapter 7 prophet, sage, and oracle

Trying something new. Little sound byte chpt's. Ray Bradbury did it in some of his books--like in Something Wicked This Way Comes. One sentence long. Nothing happened for the rest of the night. Quoted from memory. Probably not verbatim.

_**A HEROINE'S LEGACY**_

_**chpt. 7**_

_**prophet, sage, oracle**_

Suzie Sheldon walked home silent and contemplative. Mr. Possible made quite an impression on her. He looked like the pictures she had seen of his grandfather Ron Stoppable. He was a goofball--just like his grandfather . And she was majorly crushing on him. But there was more.

The stories he told and the things he said gave her thoughts and feelings she never had before. Suzie had heard the words "sage" and "oracle" and "prophet" in her story time and her Sunday School. And she knew they applied to certain kinds of men--like Merlin and Moses--but she could not verbalize exactly what made them special.

And she did not apply those words to Mr. Possible. But she knew he was different. He was not a study slacker like Ron Stoppable. But he was not just smart--like Kim Possible. He was something more.

Daddy was special. Suzie was still at the age where Daddy knew almost everything. And Mr. Possible was special, too. He imparted mysteries--insights into love and joy, life, and death. But she would not have used those words. And she could not have begun to express in words what she learned from him.

_**to be continued**_

Your humble author begs his readers' pardon. He's going to do another flashback thing next chpt.


	8. Chapter 8: Yamanouchi admission

Some days the plot bunny is asleep in its burrow and won't get up to save its life--like the groundhog seeing its shadow and running back underground. Other days, it's running all over the carrot patch.

I would love to take side trips and explore the tales of the two sweethearts of this chpt. But our heroine is underground. And as the saying goes, these are other stories.

A couple chpt's back, I was working on just trying to get through All Saints' Day--the day that traditionally follows Halloween. But like a kid in his fave toy store, I keep stopping to look at the all the exciting items.

Ryebread confesses. What I had planned originally for my OC--Richard Leo Harte--I find coming to pass in Ronald Zimmer Possible--a warrior with a scholar's mind and a poet's heart.

And Ron's ability to quote literature--I do that all the time. Of course when writing, I have search engines at my disposal. The Biblical references are enclosed in parentheses and are not part of the quote.

Having said that, I encourage reader feedback. Is my Ron realistic? Is he too Mary-Sue? Does he embody the Possible intellect while retaining the lovable Stoppable imperfections?

_**A HEROINE'S LEGACY**_

_**chpt 8**_

_**Yamanouchi admission**_

Tara Stoppable had just seen her nephew Ronald Zimmer Possible off at Tri-City International Airport. When she got home, her son Roy was raking the lawn. Tara tried to engage him in conversation. "Well--Ronnie's off to Yamanouchi. I hope he'll do as well as you and your brother did."

"He's a Possible, Mother," said Roy curtly. "He may have Dad's face, but he has Tim Possible's mind--and that of his twin brother Jim--and that of James Timothy and Anne Possible, to listen to his mother.

Tara sighed sadly. Ronnie was the oldest son of her daughter Kim. She loved to brag on him. She might well be right.

Tara and Ron's oldest son Lon--Alonzo Stoppable--had married Lorrie Mankey, daughter of Josh and Liz Mankey. Lorrie wanted lots of kids, like her mother and grandmother. There was Carl, Anton, Lontaine, and Rhonda--and she was pregnant again! The children all did well in school. They all showed signs of the family talents--sports and home economics.

Tara loved and sang the praises of all her grandchildren--but none of her own kids--or Lon's kids--displayed the sheer intellect that was a Possible family trait.

Young Ronald Zimmer Possible was as nervous as a grade school student going to his first dance. Tokyo International Airport was full of people milling about.

He looked hard for someone who might look like a ninja_--I don't know--what does a student from a secret ninja school look like?_

The crowds seemed to magically part. And there stood--a girl. She bowed and said in a low melodious voice, "Welcome to Tokyo, Stoppable-san. I am Mariko Kamsumi-san. It is my honor to accompany you to your destination."

Ron was stunned. In all the world, there could be no two females like this.

She wore a typical student's uniform--and not the cutesy sailor suit with the miniskirt and knee socks. It was a dark blue skirt that came to the knees, dark blue blazer, white shirt and tie, sheer hose, and dress shoes--like an exclusive boarding school. Everything was pressed and trim.

But the face. The face was a like a--a painting. Rembrandt--or Rubens. A picture of a person was realistic in its resemblance. But it had no life. A painting, on the other hand, glowed with warmth. And this girl glowed. Ron felt like a klutz next to her. For the first time in his life, he was afraid he would replicate his grandfather's famous trick with the dropping pants.

As he studied her, it was obvious. She had Yoriko's round chin and pert nose, and Hirotaka's high cheekbones and longer ears--and his unruly hair. She wore her hair short. Blunt cut, moussed, yet very well groomed. No red ribbon.

Her smile was self-assured. "You are analyzing my appearance, Possible-san? Seeing if I resemble my parents?"

Ron nodded. He had given himself away. "I notice you don't have a red ribbon," he blurted. "That was one of Grandpa's favorite things about your mother's look."

Stoppable men had a gift for blurting. Great-great-Grandpa Jon--Grandpa Ron--Uncle Lon--Uncle Roy--and him. Saying something when they should've clammed up--clamming up when they should've waxed poetic.

Mariko grinned. "You have your grandfather's American-style impulsive tongue, Possible-san."

And too late, Ron realized how blunt and pushy he must have sounded. So he gave up trying to make a good impression and threw caution to the winds. He let himself speak in the way he felt expressed himself best. He waxed poetic. "Grey-eyed Athena, goddess of war," he said quietly.

And it was true. Unlike her mother's almond dark eyes, Mariko's eyes were a striking gray. It was unusual but not unknown among the ethnic Japanese.

And to his surprise and delight, she laughed. A musical laughter. "My mother has already told me, Possible-san, how avid a reader you are. And my father has told me often to beware of boys who speak poetry glibly. He himself snared many girls' hearts with his good looks and polite ways before my mother consented to marry him. And yes, many boys have tried to impress me with poetry. And yes, I have read Homer's Odyssey. But no boy has every used one to do the other. So, you may consider me impressed."

They made small talk as the commuter ride left the city. Mariko told of the missions she had been on with her parents. "I've been helping my father combat terrorists and drug traders."

"I've been helping Uncle Lon with stolen cars and break-ins," said Ron, somewhat mortified.

"I didn't mean to cause you shame, Possible-san," said Mariko. "We're both doing good, according to the opportunity given us. What does the Buddha tell us?

"Do not think lightly of good, that nothing will come of it. A whole water pot will fill up from dripping drops of water."

Ron nodded--and brightened. "Okay. You're right. Like St. Paul says.

"For if the readiness is there, it is acceptable according as a man has, not according as he has not. (2 Corinthians 8:12)

"The Bible mentions David's rules of warfare.

"…But as his share of the booty is that goes down to the battle, so shall his share be that tarries by the supplies . They shall partake alike. (1 Samuel 30:24)

"Or as John Milton says:

"God doth not need / Either man's work or his own gifts: who best / Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. / His state Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed / And post o'er land and ocean without rest: / They also serve who only stand and wait."

Mariko nodded, somewhat dazed. She was taken aback at Ron's eloquence and recollection . "Yes, Possible-san."

And Ron was taken aback at Mariko's smile. He began to berate himself again for running at the mouth. But a girl like that--could anyone blame him?

They made good time hiking up the mountain. Ron carried his own gear--a shoulder bag and duffle bag. "We pack light ever since your mother made it my grandfather's honor to carry a mountain of luggage up the mountain."

He was completely at ease in her presence. He told all the stories of his grandfather and great-great-uncle, the Tweebs, the twin brothers Tim and Jim Possible, as they doused their big sister Kim during the car wash, caused her clothes to levitate when they reconfigured the dryer, or damaged the house with their frequent rocket launches. He told the stories of his grandfather Ron Stoppable winning the school talent show by doing fart sounds with his hand in his armpit, of being harassed by Bobo the chimp at Camp Wannaweep, and of causing mood changes in his partner Kim when she was accidentally implanted with the Moodulator chip.

Mariko could hardly stop laughing. "Please--Possible-san--you must stop! It's very hard to walk uphill when you make me laugh so hard!"

Ron was hardly inclined to agree to her request. He tended to have the same appeal to girls in America that his grandfather had--nil. And Mariko was having the same effect on him that Yoriko had on his grandfather. It was a heady influence--to have a lovely young woman as his only companion on the journey and have her listening to his every word.

They came to the foot of the falls near the crest of the hill. And Ron became still.

"Possible-san?" asked Mariko. "What is it? You're suddenly so quiet."

"Grandpa and Aunt Hana were at this spot before Monkey Fist and Yono came to Yamanouchi. Grandpa described it in detail. I'd know the place in my sleep."

"Monkey Fist almost shut down Yamanouchi," said Mariko quietly. "Twice. First he tried to steal the Lotus Blade--then he brought the Destroyer."

"Yono," said Ron grimly. "Like Faust--he wanted power--and like Faust, he sent for a demon. His own Mephistopheles. And like Faust, he himself got taken."

Mariko tried not to shudder at either Possible-san's dark grimace or the tale of Monty Fiske's fearful fate--his penalty for walking the Path of the Yono.

_**to be continued**_

Next chpt--back to Middleton--just in time for Halloween. Boo.


	9. Chapter 9: old acquaintances

Daily I am chipping away at the email backlog--and reviewing stories--and fashioning chpt's

When last we left Kim, her great-nephew Ron Possible was just beginning to hold dialogue with her. Then we backtracked and watched her suffer the horror of living burial. Then we jumped ahead to the death of Ron Stoppable--and further ahead to Tara's dreadful fright by the girl dressed in the K.P.

We backtrack once more. Consider it a Halloween story. Consider it a treat for those readers who want Tara to suffer like Kim has suffered.

Some explanatory notes. In Family Legacy, by daccu65, which Heroine's Legacy is based on, we learn that only Ron Stoppable and his eldest son Lon Possible knew the story of Tara's murder attempt and Kim Possible's awful fate But in the sequel, Legacy Resolved, we see that the second Stoppable son, Roy, was finally told.

I have adapted and added to the material to fit into the narrative of my story. Hopefully I'm telling a comprehensible account. Maybe some chpt I should do a family tree.

And pardon my inclusion of graphic details and language. I'm all about dramatic effect, don'tcha know?

All characters and plots derived from the K.P. show, by McCortle, Schooley, and Loter, A Box of Cuddlebuddies by Captainkodak1, and Family Legacy, by daccu65--except Wynan Load, and Anton and Rhonda Stoppable.

Kudos to daccu for the inspiration to this story. It's been a year now since he posted his fic, in response to Zataran's Halloween Challenge.

_**From **__**FAMILY LEGACY, by daccu65**_

"_After your grandfather died, I locked up the pump room," Tara continued. "But when Yamanouchi accepted you, I had to see if she was still…active. I went to the pump room and called her name into the pipe. She answered. Since then, I've gone down there once a year to make sure that she's still…there." Tara wiped her eyes. "She hasn't forgotten and she hasn't forgiven."_

_**A HEROINE'S LEGACY **_

_**chpt 9**_

_**old acquaintances **_

Tara descended to the basement.

_I haven't been down there since Ron died. I have to know--I have to satisfy my curiosity._

And from the basement, she descended to the pump room.

_After all--I'm safe--Kim can't get to me. True--she can psych me._

With shaking fingers, Tara unfastened the padlock. The old door creaked open. She pulled the cord and the bare bulb lit up.

Tara felt like a tiny defenseless creature in the presence of a huge sleeping predator, hoping desperately not to awaken the dreadful beast.

But the beast stirred. There was a noise coming from the pipe, and a foul stench of decay--and a Voice from the sepulcher of the damned. "It's been awhile, Ron. Come back to talk to your zombie girlfriend?"

Tara's self-assurances of safety faded like the bravado of a condemned prisoner facing the executioner. When she could speak, it was a soprano squeak of fright. "It's me, Kim."

The Voice sounded taken aback. "Tara--I'm surprised you had the backbone to come with him. Nostalgic, are we? A reunion of the Cheer Squad? Are Bonnie and Jessica still alive? You could get them all down here! Bon-bon could be the top of the the pyramid--provided the ceiling is high enough out there!"

Tara steeled herself. "Ron's dead, Kim."

It was a long moment.

The Voice hissed like a serpent. "You fukking lying bitch--you **whore**! Don't **give** me that shit! Ron! Where the hell are you? Sent the wifey to do your dirty work? You two have a spat? Is it something I said? Is that why you won't talk to me?"

"It's true, Kim. Ron's been dead almost twenty years."

"Tw-twen--!" A hideous wail came from the pipe. "Twenty **years**? It's been twenty more **years**? **You fukking bitch! God damn you to Hell, Tara Rene King!**"

Tara huddled on the floor and wrapped her arms around her head. But the Voice was still deafening.

From the sound. Kim was speaking through clenched teeth. "When I finally die, Tara King--I hope to God you're still in one piece! Because if the demons haven't torn you apart by then--**I will**!"

Tara whimpered and shook like a victim of the ague. The echoes of Kim's rage seemed to reverberate for several moments.

The Voice sounded weary. "I can hear you bleating, Tara. Stop sniveling and get up. You obviously came down to tell me more than that." The Voice chuckled evilly. "But hey--where are my manners? Have a seat. Make yourself at home. Let's catch up on old times. Help yourself to the kitchen and bathroom, if you need it. Haven't messed yourself, have you? Like I did when you stuffed me in this hellhole?"

With shaky movements, Tara got up and sat cross-legged on the floor.

"So--just out of curiosity--what did Ron die of? I assume he actually died--that you didn't bury him first. That **is** a bad habit of yours. Just because you stick somebody in the ground and let the flesh rot off their bones doesn't mean they're clinically deceased--although that's probably something they never taught Mom at med school."

Tara shook her head. It was like an evil unreal delirium--holding conversation with an Undead--a victim of her own murder plot. "After our daughter's wedding--he just took to his bed--hardly came out of his room."

"You sound bitter."

"The ninja girl came. Your--your--"

"Yori? From Yamanouchi?"

And a resentment nursed in Tara's heart that rivaled her fear of Kim bubbled to the surface. She spat out the words, bitter with the taste of bile. "Yes! Her! My husband died with her next to him--in his bed!"

The room rang with demonic laughter. It echoed off the walls. Tara quailed at the sound and covered her ears again.

"Well, shit me! Way to go, Ron-Dog! Wifey kills me off so she can have him all to herself--then has to live like a nun for a couple decades--and on the last night of his life, a cutie in a kimono shows up and plays geisha! And you and me end up like a couple old widows who haven't been laid in forever! Damn, Tara--it sucks to be us, doesn't it?"

Tara cowered in silence. At that moment, equal parts of horror and shame filled her soul.

The mirth died away. "Well--there is a God after all--and He hates you as much as He hates me! So what's the happy occasion? Did you come just to cheer me up with your marital woes? So not the current gossip, Tara."

"Well--my grandson left for Yamanouchi."

"Another? Let me see--there's Lon--he's the one who dug me out--and Roy--"

"This one is Ron--my daughter's son"

"Your daughter Kim? Named for me? Who married Ron Possible--my brother Tim's son? Well, hell's bells, Tara--you and I are practically cousins! But losing all your men to a little almond-eyed cupcake like Yori. That must hurt. You obviously tank at being a wife **and **a mother."

Tara stiffened. "And you're obviously acquainted with all the details of my domestic life." She didn't know which was worse from Kim--her maniacal raving or her withering scorn. Kim was sounding like the old Bonnie Rockwaller.

"See? Ron kept me current on his yearly visits. I always figured he would even show me a slide show through the pipe. I think it was to try and make me feel less pissed at him and his fam. Like I would get all warm and fuzzy--**like I would forget my vow to massacre you and every last one of your freaking brats!"**

The change in Kim's voice shocked Tara. Despite her effort to stay focused on the fact of Kim's unwearied hatred, she was lured by the conversation of the last few minutes into a false hope. She had received a jolt back to reality.

"Yeah!" continued Kim. "Ron thought he was filling me in on the family tree! All he did was give me names for my death list! Now, Tara--let's get down to brass tacks! You didn't come here to brag on your grandkids! Tell me what's really on your beady little mind!"

"I--I came to see if you would f--" Tara swallowed. It was hard to speak the word. Her sense of remorse made her lips feel numb. "--For--give m-me. And my family."

Again the Voice was taken aback. "Forgive--? Did you say that word? Forgive?"

A thundering boom, like a wrecking ball, sounded through the pipe and echoed in the pump room.

Tara yelped and fell back against the wall opposite the pipe. She could only guess at the enormity of the impact Kim had produced against the side of the cistern to cause that kind of sound. She wondered with a sudden dread if Kim's prison would hold.

The Voice railed hatefully. "You filthy, miserable, rotten **whore**! What kind of putrid shit is in your skull? What gives you the **gall**--the **nerve**--to say that word to **me**?"

Tara jabbered "I--I was hoping--"

The Voice rumbled ominously. "You were hoping. Do me a favor. Stick your face up to the pipe. Let me look you in the eye and see if you're really that stupid or just lying to me! And then I'll give you my answer!"

Trembling, Tara put her eye to the pipe--

--A nightmarish Face was rushing at her--glaring eyes, shining with ghastly green fluorescence--teeth like bared fangs, smiling ghoulishly.

Tara shrieked. She fell back and landed on the cement floor. She was stunned. The breath was knocked from her. She was unable to move.

There was a slithering sound coming from the pipe.

"I'mmmmm cominnnggg forrrrr youuuuu--Taraaaaaa!"

In Tara's mind, the hideous fear rose up and the though screeched. _Kim's coming out--! She's coming after me! Oh __**God--Kim's coming after me--!**_She babbled in horror. She tried to scream, but only little yipping sounds came out of her mouth. She tried to crawl backwards, but it was as thought she had no strength, and her limbs flailed uselessly. She finally scrambled backwards--and struck her head on the wall.

Excruciating pain shot through her head. Dark shapes appeared in her vision. _No! I can't pass out in here!_

Sheer animal panic coursed through her body. She managed to turn around. Clawing with her fingernails on the wall, she stood to her feet on shaky legs.

The door was closed! She yanked on the doorknob. Did the door open in or out? She couldn't remember!

In a fright she looked behind her--over her shoulder.

Things poked from the pipe--tentacles, reptilian limbs with grasping claws, rubbery boneless human arms, ashen grey, with grasping hands and rotting finger stubs

Tara's sanity began to totter, like a creaky shack. In another moment, it would collapse. _Those things are just hallucinations! Please, God! They aren't real--__**they can't be real**__!_

The door flung open--inward. Tara was hurled to the floor--again. She hyperventilated. "Ah!--Ah!--Ah!" _The things are coming! The things are coming! I can feel them in my hair!_

In that moment, the old stories her husband had told of Camp WannaWeep suddenly took on fearful immediacy. _Ticks and leaches in my hair. A bloodfest on my scalp._

Terror gave Tara a desperate strength. Somehow she sprang to her feet and bolted out the door.

She grasped the handle and slammed it shut. She reached for the padlock in her pocket--_where was the padlock?_

Blubbering in dread, Tara inched the door open. There the padlock--on the floor, several paces in the room.

Kim's weird sing-song continued. "I'm gonna get Tara / I'm gonna get Tara!"

Scuttling like a crab, Tara rushed into the room, scooped up the padlock, and rushed out.

There! The door was close--the padlock was back in place--she was safe--

--Tara felt a hand on her shoulder. She shrieked again--and fell into a dead swoon.

Roy Stoppable stood over her body sprawled on the floor._ Dammit, Mother! What possessed you to come down here?_

The Voice came through the door. "Really, Tara! The way you leave so quickly! Without even a proper goodbye! One would think you have a guilty conscious!"

Roy hoisted his mother's body over his shoulder. As he started up the stairs, he stumbled and fell, bashing his knees. Tara's limp form almost fell off

The Voice seemed to soak through the wall like water through cloth. "Tara? Did you fall and hurt yourself? I'm so sorry!"

"Shut up, you monster!" blurted Roy.

The Voice directed it's eerie spine-chilling chant at him. "Don't be coyyyyy, Royyyyy! I want youuuu, tooooo!"

Goose bumps covered Roy like rash. He hobbled painfully up the stairs, his mother a seemingly lifeless dangling burden. In his panic, it flashed in his mind to drop her and flee.

He slammed the sub-livel door shut. The diabolical laughter cut off like hitting the mute button on a media player. His chest heaved. He wiped the sweat from his brow, and his hand was sopping wet. His mother was draped like a mannequin over his shoulder.

Tara huddled on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket. She was pale and clammy. Her clothes were drenched in sweat. She sipped from a glass of water held in a trembling hand.

Roy stood over her, hands on hips, glaring sternly. "Mother--what the **hell** were you doing down there?"

"I--I had to see--if she's still there--still angry!"

"And?"

"She hasn't forgotten--she hasn't forgiven."

"Well, guess what? Neither have I!"

Tara looked up with plaintive eyes. "Roy? Won't you ever call me 'Mom' again?"

Roy gaped at her incredulously. He had quite possibly saved her life--and she was worried about little niceties. "You're lucky I even talk to you! You're lucky I consent to stay in this house! I should be out doing missions with Aunt Han! Or at the lab with Wynan Load! Who knows? I might've met someone by now! Someone like--!" He pointed in the direction of the back yard. "--Her--before she became--a fiend!"

Tara winced under her son's scathing remarks. "I'm sorry--I'm sorry--I'm so sorry--!"

Roy exploded. "You're sorry--and that's supposed to suffice for your foul crime! I'd rather call **her** 'Mom'! Hell--I'll say it--I wish Dad had married **her**!"

Tara burst into tears.

Roy gazed at his mother with mingled pity and contempt. "Here," he said softly, "Let me take the glass. It looks like you might spill it." He took hold of the glass, and she relinquished it. "Want some more to drink?"

Tara shook her head.

Roy sighed and awkwardly patted her shoulder. "You should get some rest. I'm going to take a walk." As he left the room, he turned back and said, almost inaudibly, "Good night--Mom."

Roy Adrian Stoppable sat on the back porch of the house. The night sky was bright with a moon just past full. So many happy memories in the back yard. The cookouts with the Mankeys and the Possibles. The ball games. Chasing and being chased by brother Lon and sister Kim around the old apple orchard. The birthday parties. Mom married Dad here. Lon married Laura Mankey here. And Kim married Ron Possible.

And there it stood. The gazebo. For all appearances, it looked like a pleasant airy place to hold picnics and parties. To Roy, it had all the charm of Nazi concentration camp crematorium.

It covered the old cistern that was the prison of the awful Creature. Lon himself told the horrid story. Dad had slashed It to bits--and It reformed. And now the Stoppable family must stand guard--year after year--generation upon generation--stretching into time without end.

Roy would never marry. He would never have children. God forgive him for letting his brother and sister carry that burden--but he couldn't play that kind of inhuman joke on someone. _Dear--I love you--and by the way--my aunt--the famous Kim Possible--has been changed into an immortal monster that our children and grandchildren will have to keep watch over_.

There had been a girl in college--but it would never happen--so there was no reason to yearn for it. _Bad enough one of my nephews has to do it next. Lon's boy Carl--or Kim's kid Ronnie--._

--And in a plane over the Pacific rode a lanky kid with messy blond hair, honest brown eyes, freckles, big ears, and a constant goofy grin. He was the image of his grandfather. He was headed for the family Alma Mater--a secret ninja school on a holy mountain. He had a head full of dreams, a heart full of hope--and a Destiny.

_**to be continued**_

(author's note--I thought about posting the next little bit as a separate chpt--but the plot bunny thumped his foot loudly.

I have touched upon several topics--the marriages of the various characters--Roy's ambivalent feelings toward his mother--and a character not dealt with in the fan-stories I base my tale on--Hana Stoppable. We will flesh these out in future chpt's)

_**chapter epilogue **_

The pale glimmer of the naked bulb shining through the pipe and the sound of another's voice had been withdrawn from the captive. Once more the cloak of absolute darkness fell like a pall on the captive's dungeon.

Kim howled like a berserk demon--and cavorted like a gleeful imp.

"Ron! I loved you! I wanted to be your wife! And have your children! I wanted us to grow old together! I hope you died scared to death of my escape--knowing you won't be there to help your descendents!

"Hah! I taught you a lesson, Tara King! Psych! Just because I can't get **at** you, doesn't mean I can't get **to **you. And who knows--someday you'll wake up with me standing over you--and it won't be a dream!"

And as people did in the tribal days--before cities and agriculture and writing--as they disfigured and mutilated themselves to mourn the death of a beloved--Kim took her fingers and gouged her face, body, and limbs. And as always, the wounds healed and her decayed form was restored to its decayed completeness.

She could not tell which was stronger in her--her grief at the death of the one who had been her love--or her unholy merriment at Tara's terror. Perhaps it was her constant hatred of all things--or her despair at the bleak prospect of outliving all she had once known and loved, and the endless ages before her.

--Or even her loneliness. _Hah! Guess I scared the crap out of Little -Miss-Milk-And-Cookies. Bet she won't be back---_

--Only to have the realization slowly dawn upon her--

_--Whatthefuk--do I actually __**miss**__ the little minx?_

But like the felon returning to the scene of the crime--like the penitent seeking to atone for the sin--Tara would return--

--However--that is another chapter.

_**to be continued**_


	10. Ch 10: a tragical history is possible

-1This chpt took a long time to craft. I'm pleased with it--but not quite satisfied. The local ISP is having budget issues. Consequently, my connection to the 'web is limited. And I'm falling behind on my backlog of email again.

I'll tell you who absolutely rocks at merging KP with mythology--Mattk. His two stories Bleeding Out, and Bleeding Through are epics on a Homeric scale.

This is a continuation of the Halloween series where Ron Possible first encounters Kim Possible and dedicates himself to his Quest.

Based on the stories A Box Of Cuddlebuddies by captainkodak1 and Family Legacy by daccu65.

Ron Possible is a creation of daccu65. Mariko Kansumi is my creation.

All other characters are from Kim Possible, created by Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley.

The statement about "the next frontier" was spoken by President John F. Kennedy.

I have included a reference to the story arc mentioned in my profile, borrowed from MinnesotaMutt as DeviantArt--that of Indiana Jones and Nana Possible being married.

The Tragedy Of Macbeth by William Shakespeare, The Tragical History Of Doctor Faustus by Christopher Marlowe, and Lost Horizon by James Hilton are taken from the Project Gutenberg website and are in the public domain. I've said it before. That website rules.

_**A HEROINE'S LEGACY**_

_**chpt 10**_

_**A tragical history is possible for a Possible**_

Suzie Sheldon had just gone home. Ron Possible was preparing chicken soup for his grandma Tara for lunch. His big ebook fell open to a certain piece of literature. And it reminded him of another time and place…

_**Five years previous--at Mt. Yamanouchi.**_

Mariko Kansumi and Ron Possible had trekked the steep path up Mount Yamanouchi. They were about to proceed--

--But his attention was diverted. There was a sense of déjà vu. He stared long and intently at the spot where his grandfather Ron and his great-aunt Hana splashed in the mountain stream more than sixty years ago. Ron Stoppable was still in high school. Hana was less than a year old. They were on the verge of meeting Monkey Fist and Yono. He knew the story well. He could almost envision them--

--Chills went up and down his spine at what he saw--himself seated at the edge of the stream--in a classic Team Possible mission suit.

_A little toddler--a girl--practically an infant--with eyes black and glittering as obsidian. And hair jet black with silken sheen._

_The other Ron tickled the toddler. "Who's a boo-bah?"_

"_Boo-bah!" The little girl giggled. And she held up a hand with her pinkie finger extended. She playfully pushed away the other Ron's hand. "Page," she said._

Ron Possible stared in disbelief. The scene was clear as a holographic audio-video--or real-life. _This was Grandpa! And Aunt Hana! On the fateful day--practically the very hour of the confrontation with Yono the Destroyer. _

Monty Fiske had made a Faustian bargain with the Mephistophelean being, Yono. He had signed away his soul to gain power. And he had suffered a horrendous fate.

The scene shifted--

_It was still the same big-eared freckle-faced blonde-haired boy. But the girl had green eyes like new grass in the spring, and hair as red as a maple tree in the fall. She was noticeably older than the vision of Hana Possible--but not yet an adolescent. He couldn't tell. Was she five? Six? Eight? Wearing pigtails? A ponytail?_

_The boy scooped her up in his arms and twirled her about. "Aunt Kim--you're free!"_

_The girl yelped. "Ron! Be careful!" Did she have freckles? Was that a flash of braces on her teeth as she smiled?_

_They both laughed with supreme joy._

And the vision faded.

Ron was stunned. Kim Possible? As a young preadolescent girl? Ron Stoppable calling her "Aunt Kim"? What did it mean?

"Possible-san?"

Absently, Ron looked up.

Mariko Kansumi stood there, slowly waving her hand in front of his face. "Possible-san? Are you all right? What are you staring at?"

And Ron turned back to face the stream bank. He gawked, dumfounded. The place was empty. "I--I don't know. I thought I saw something."

Mariko laid a hand on his arm. "Come. We're expected."

Ron followed Mariko to the foot of the waterfall. Wedging themselves against the face of the cliff, they inched their way behind the falls. Ron felt the rush of cool air and saw the mouth of the cave.

They entered the cave and made their way through the narrow passage. As the light of the entrance receded behind them, the light of another entrance showed ahead. As they emerged from the channel, Ron gasped at what he saw--.

The men and women of the Possible family were typically ahead of the curve scientifically and socially. After he retired from the Continental Army, Zimm Possible was a frequent guest of Thomas Jefferson in his home at Monticello. They discussed subjects as diverse as the exploration of the western frontier and the application of Leonardo Da Vinci's principles of mechanized human flight. Col. Possible corresponded with Benjamin Franklin regarding the application of electricity and steam as a source of power, to give light and move machinery. He corresponded with Frederick Douglass about abolition of slavery and universal voting rights.

Miriam Possible wrote extensively about the fledgling science of aviation, and the fledgling electrical and automotive industries. She envisioned aircraft circling the globe--piloted by women! This did nothing to lessen Constable Barkin's disdain for her.

James Timothy Possible had grown up on the early days of America's manned space program. He was hardly in grade school when America's young president was assassinated. But a statement that president made about "The next frontier" had shaped his aspirations. So when he grew up, he applied his energies to traversing that great frontier--outer space..

But every few generations, someone entered the Possible family, either by birth or marriage, who was a throwback, an anachronism. Miriam's niece and James Timothy's mother, Em Possible had married an archaeologist, a Dr. Henry Jones, Jr. Their eldest son, Silas Elim, or 'Slim', lived the life of his nineteenth century forbearers, herding horses on a Montana ranch. James Timothy's nephew Larry romanticized about a barbaric sword-and-sorcery past portrayed in fantasy books, comics, and video games. But it was James Timothy's great-grandson and Larry's distant cousin Ron who grew up with his feet planted on the ground of a modern age, but his mind and heart rooted in antiquity. The twin Muses of science and literature each whispered in the boy's two ears.

--And so when Ron's eye fell upon the centuries-old enclosure on Mount Yamanouchi with its pagodas, where was taught the art of the ninjitsu, he felt as Nicholo Polo, and later his son, Marco, must have felt when they beheld the wonders of Kublai Khan's empire. He felt like the westerners who gazed upon a mountain paradise untouched by violence.

…It might have been a vision fluttering out of that solitary rhythm in which lack of oxygen had encompassed all his faculties. It was, indeed, a strange and half-incredible sight. A group of colored pavilions clung to the mountainside with…the chance delicacy of flower petals impaled upon a crag. It was superb and exquisite. An austere emotion carried the eye upward from milk-blue roofs to the gray rock bastion above, …Beyond that, in a dazzling pyramid, soared the snow slopes of Karakal. It might well be…the most terrifying mountainscape in the world, and he imagined the immense stress of snow and glacier against which the rock functioned as a gigantic retaining wall. 

He stared, spellbound. "Shangri-La," he murmured.

Mariko smiled slyly. "My mother tells me your grandfather was likewise as awestruck, Possible-san--if not as eloquent."

Have you read Lost Horizons, Kansumi-san," asked Ron.

"Yes."

He continued to stare. " 'Blue Moon had taken him, and there was no escape. The mountains gleamed around in a hedge of inaccessible purity…the green depths of the valley…the harpsichord's silver monotony across the lotus pool...' " Shaking his head, he glanced at Mariko and smiled bashfully. "Sorry--just think aloud."

Mariko stared at Ron. "Do you memorize entire books, Possible-san?"

His smile became even more bashful. "Well--no. Just the parts I like."

Mariko suppressed a tremble and took a breath to calm herself. She had lost count of the young men the world over who had made advances on her, as she accompanied her father on missions. He would frown, but he trusted her. Broad shoulders and square jaws held little appeal for her.

But this shy, gawky boy moved her heart without trying--as easily as the mountaintop gusts of wind tousled their hair.

They began to cross the seemingly frail rope bridge. It swayed in the wind.

Ron cast a glance into the deep chasm. "My grandfather had a few fears--but heights wasn't one of them. He could parachute without a qualm."

Mariko glanced out of the corner of her eye. "And you?"

He nodded noncommittally. "Well--maybe that's something I can grow out of while I'm here."

At the other end awaited an elderly couple. Ron knew at once who they were.

Mariko clambered on the bridge ahead toward them. "Mom! Dad!"

Ron noticed Mariko was courteous with him, after the manner of the traditional Japanese way, and more casual with her parents, after the manner of the contemporary American way. He must try to learn what was proper with the faculty and student body of the academy--and with the young lady.

The man was dressed in a dark gi. He had Mariko's wild unruly hair--except it was white as snow. "Daughter!" he said sharply. "Remember your decorum."

Mariko stopped. "Yes, my father," she said, in a demure voice. She bowed to the couple. They bowed back. And then they opened their arms, and with a happy yelp, she jumped into their embrace.

The woman was dressed in a bright red caftan. Her bobbed hair was salt-and-pepper--and she wore a red ribbon. She had Mariko's nose and chin. And Ron could see immediately why his grandfather's affection was immediately seized. She had her daughter's nose, mouth, and chin--and fetching almond eyes. Even at this age, she was still a ravishing beauty.

He stepped off the bridge. He had intended to greet them with all the solemnity that proper etiquet required. It was customary to remove one's shoes and ask a sensei's permission before entering a dojo. He removed one shoe--and promptly stumbled and fell trying to remove the other shoe.

Mariko and her mother tried to hold it back--but they both collapsed into helpless laughter.

Even Hirotaka could not suppress a smirk. He addressed his old friend in his heart. _Oh, Stoppable-san--the stain of tragedy seeps deeply into the walls of your house. All of us are saddened. Yet you send us this excellent young man to lift our hearts with his American-style clumsiness. The gods bless you, my brother, as you sleep with your fathers. It will be our honor to teach him all we know of our poor knowledge._

Ron had hoped to indulge his sense of formal ceremony and act with a certain pageantry and solemnity. But obviously the Stoppable influence--the essential Ron-ness--was too strong. _Oh, well--as St. Paul says--pride goes before the fall_. Obviously, it was his karma to spread Ron-shine wherever he went. He got back up on his feet and brushed off his pants. He grinned goofily and bowed. "An unworthy student begs leave to enter and be taught, Sensei Kansumi-sama."

Yoriko tried to compose herself. "This not the dojo, Possible-san. But please come. Welcome to Yamanouchi Academy. You--um--_(chortle)--_**honor** us with your hilarity--er, I mean--**humility** and your presence." She fought to keep a straight face and an even voice. And she stifled another giggle.

There was a tug on her heartstrings. It was both sweetness and agony. He had the height of the Possible side of the family, but in every other respect, Ronald Possible was her Ron-san reborn. The untidy blonde hair. The big ungainly ears. The American-style buffoonery. But most of all there were the honest brown eyes and the big innocent smile. It was a smile of peace. It was a smile of the Buddha.

_**Five years later--in Tara Stoppable's kitchen--**_

--Five years ago, Ron began to have the first inklings of something rotten in the state of Colorado--and only now did he realize it.

His huge cyber book fell open to a play.

THE TRAGICAL HISTORY OF DOCTOR FAUSTUS

By Christopher Marlowe

From The Quarto Of 1616

Ron knew the story. It was written by a contemporary of William Shakespeare. The story was even older. A German scholar, who, in his quest for knowledge and power, traveled paths best left untrod.

Johann Faustus--or Faust, as he was sometimes called, earned his doctorate in religious studies

So much he profits in divinity,

That shortly he was grac'd with doctor's name,

Excelling all, and sweetly can dispute

In th' heavenly matters of theology;

But Faustus was first and foremost, an intellectual, who loved learning, debating, and the pursuits of the mind as other men loved the pleasures of the body--like himself, thought Ron wryly.

Yet level at the end of every art,

And live and die in Aristotle's works.

Sweet Analytics, 'tis thou hast ravish'd me!

--Except that Faustus tired of simply having knowledge.

Is, to dispute well, logic's chiefest end?

Affords this art no greater miracle?

Then read no more; thou hast attain'd that end:

He wanted more--and so he went to forbidden sources.

Divinity, adieu!

These metaphysics of magicians,

And necromantic books are heavenly;

Lines, circles, scenes, letters, and characters;

Ay, these are those that Faustus most desires.

Faustus wanted rulership--over the whole world, if he could.

All things that move between the quiet poles

Shall be at my command: emperors and kings

Are but obeyed in their several provinces;

But his dominion that exceeds in this,

Stretcheth as far as doth the mind of man;

A sound magician is a demigod:

Both voices strove in Faustus's heart--the good Angel--

O, Faustus, lay that damned book aside,

And gaze not on it, lest it tempt thy soul,

And heap God's heavy wrath upon thy head!

--And the evil--

Go forward, Faustus, in that famous art

Wherein all Nature's treasure is contain'd:

Be thou on earth as Jove is in the sky,

Lord and commander of these elements.

Faustus envisioned commanding even the spirits. He would have wealth. He would know all things.

How am I glutted with conceit of this!

Shall I make spirits fetch me what I please,

Resolve me of all ambiguities,

Perform what desperate enterprise I will?

I'll have them fly to India for gold,

Ransack the ocean for orient pearl,

And search all corners of the new-found world

For pleasant fruits and princely delicates;

I'll have them read me strange philosophy,

And tell the secrets of all foreign kings;

There was something at the edge of Ron's memory--something one of Team Possible's foes once said.

He turned the huge ebook to its table of contents and ran his finger down the page. He frowned. "Hmm--not here." He touched an icon labeled _Search_ in the lower corner of the page. The page cleared of print. "Team Possible Mission Log Transcripts, Genomic Sequencer Mission, Drew Theodore P. Lipsky, a.k.a. Dr. Drakken, and Amelia Hall, a.k.a. DNAmy," he recited.

Wade Load had recorded everything in the old days. Whatever Kim had said and done, whatever happened in her life and her missions, was preserved. Sometimes it bordered on invasion of privacy, and his mania had been the topic of heated discussion between the heroine and her friend / mission coordinator / webmaster. But the audio video records of the battles had proven invaluable for analysis of the tactics of both the heroes and villains. And things the foes said and did would yield important clues regarding their future plans.

--And there it was. Ron brightened. Dr. Drakken's brief, eloquent, but, alas, futile attempt at courting DNAmy.

I knew it from the moment I first saw you. I love everything about you. Your homemade cookies. Your homemade creatures. The way you wrinkle your nose when you flout the laws of man and nature. Oh, Amy, be mine!

Ron smirked. It wasn't William Shakespeare--or even Christopher Marlowe--but it was enlightening--and insightful.

DNAmy was terminated from her college post for unorthodox gene splicing experiments.

Drakken's desire was for an army of robots--or genetically enhanced meta-humans--to conquer the world. And he was willing to invent--or steal--sophisticated scientific devices and subvert them from their beneficial purpose. Nano-ticks--atmospheric disruptors--orbital space stations--weather machines--mind tap machines--centripetal oscillators--shrink rays--even machines for healing the common cold. Power and conquest were his gods--and he would lay his greatest gift on the alter--his incalculable intellect--as a sacrifice.

And neither of them seemed to allow ethical concerns--the laws of man, nature, and God--or even their subjects' unwillingness--deter them from experimenting on humans.

Ron read on. And as he did so, he asked himself what he always did. _What's here for me, that will help me help Kim Possible?_

There were others involved besides Faustus and the voices of the two warring factions in the moral universe

A pair of Faustus' fellow scholars met up with his manservant, Wagner. They asked him where Faustus might be.

How now, sirrah! where's thy master?

And Wagner answered.

Truly, my dear brethren, my master is within at dinner, with

Valdes and Cornelius, as this wine, if it could speak, would

inform your worships: and so, the Lord bless you, preserve you,

and keep you, my dear brethren!

The two names of Faustus's guests were familiar to the scholars. It unsettled them.

O Faustus!

Then I fear that which I have long suspected,

That thou art fall'n into that damned art

For which they two are infamous through the world.

Faustus made his two guests welcome, and pumped them for information. It reminded Ron of the old saying. Birds of a feather flock together. It had been quoted by Plato in the fourth century B.C.

Come, German Valdes, and Cornelius,

And make me blest with your sage conference.

Valdes, sweet Valdes, and Cornelius,

Know that your words have won me at the last

To practice magic and concealed arts.

Philosophy is odious and obscure;

Both law and physic are for petty wits:

'Tis magic, magic that hath ravish'd me.

And the two veteran magicians obliged him

VALDES. Faustus, these books, thy wit, and our experience,

Shall make all nations to canonize us.

As Indian Moors obey their Spanish lords,

So shall the spirits of every element

Be always serviceable to us three;…

…If learned Faustus will be resolute.

FAUSTUS. Valdes, as resolute am I in this

As thou to live: therefore object it not.

…CORNELIUS. Valdes, first let him know the words of art;

And then, all other ceremonies learn'd,

Faustus may try his cunning by himself.

It was hard to tell who was playing who. Was Faustus the bigger sucker for swallowing the sales pitch, or were Valdes and Cornelius the bigger suckers for giving up their trade secrets?

It reminded Ron of Drakken trying to swindle or pilfer technology from just about every associate and acquaintance--Jack Hench, Wacky Wally, Prof. Dementor, DNAmy, James Timothy Possible, and Big Daddy Brotherson.

And how did the unholy association of Faustus, Valdes, and Cornelius apply to Kim Possible? She had not fallen into evil as a result of involvement with others. It was not a matter of peer pressure and intimidation.

In a moment of cynical honesty, Ron had to admit--both his great-aunt and her partner--his grandfather--had peer pressure issues.

Am I the new Ron? Yes, I am.

Ladies love the bad boy, and the bad boy loves the ladies. 

Oh, OK. I get it. You think this is gonna be one of those times when I suddenly turn into some out-of-control guy and go way overboard with the whole money thing…Kim, I swear, this money will not change me…Yo, yo, the Ron's got mad grip. Spend it all in one place, G. 

I think I learned a lesson here, Rufus…Never carry 99 million in cash…And--oh, yeah, right. And don't try to buy your friends.

Bonnie thought it was fly (to walk around with the entire 99 mill in my pockets.)…So what do you think the chances are that she fell in love with the real me? 

Yo, Brick…It's just me, you know, hanging. Being manly…Yeah, it is (cool). Who's the man?…(I) care what those other guys think…Since just now when they accepted me. 

Yeah, maybe, but what if (Bonnie)'s right? Is there anything sadder than going to the prom with "just a friend"? 

Okay, Bonnie's with Brick, so she's all high horse, all boys, and the stupid prom and the food chain, and, and... I'm gonna end up with Ron! 

Mom, he's not a guy, he's Ron…(So) well, yeah, (as a friend he's okay)…He's my best friend…(But)…Obviously… (he's not boyfriend material)…(Because of the food chain.?)…No. Yes. Well, kind of. The person you go with, it makes a statement.

Peer pressure issues--the desire to fit in--the temptation to sell out--this was not unusual. He had those. They were as old as history.

And Zedekiah the king said to Jeremiah, "I am afraid of the Jews that are collaborating with the Chaldeans. I fear they will deliver me into their hand, and mock me."

But Jeremiah said, "They shall not deliver you. Obey, I beseech you, the voice of the LORD, which I speak to you. So it shall go well for you, and your soul shall live." (Jeremiah 38:19-20)

But when Peter was come to Antioch, I withstood him face to face, because he was to be blamed. For before certain men came from James, he ate with the Gentiles. But when they had come, he withdrew and separated himself, fearing them who were of the circumcision. And the other Jews likewise behaved dishonestly with him, so that Barnabas also was carried away with their dishonesty. But when I saw that they did not walk uprightly according to the truth of the gospel, I said to Peter before them all, "If you, being a Jew, live like a Gentile…why do you compel the Gentiles to live like Jews?" (Galatians 2:11-15)

Ron read on.

Faustus, begin thine incantations,

And try if devils will obey thy hest,

Seeing thou hast pray'd and sacrific'd to them.

Within this circle is Jehovah's name,

Forward and backward anagrammatiz'd,

Th' abbreviated names of holy saints…

…ipse nunc

surgat nobis dicatus Mephistophilis!

And the demon Mephistopheles appeared in response to the summons--a corpse wearing a golden crown. The manifestation disturbed Faustus.

I charge thee to return, and change thy shape;

Thou art too ugly to attend on me:

Go, and return an old Franciscan friar;

That holy shape becomes a devil best.

He commanded Mephistopheles to change his look into that of a monk of the Order of St. Francis--perhaps out of a sense of irony.

Ron's interest was kindled--the appearance of a hideous emissary from Hell, like the goddess Izanagi. But even the most casual reading showed that this was not symbolic of Aunt Kim's contition. Mephistopheles had not come to kill Faustus. That would come later. And the demon revealed that a spell was not needed.

FAUSTUS. Did not my conjuring speeches raise thee? speak!

MEPHIST. That was the cause, but yet per accidens;

For, when we hear one rack the name of God,

Abjure the Scriptures and his Saviour Christ,

We fly, in hope to get his glorious soul;

Nor will we come, unless he use such means

Whereby he is in danger to be damn'd.

Therefore the shortest cut for conjuring

Is stoutly to abjure all godliness,

And pray devoutly to the prince of hell.

And so Mephistopheles revealed the price Faustus must pay for power.

Faustus was quite pleased with himself.

Who would not be proficient in this art?

How pliant is this Mephistophilis,

Full of obedience and humility!

Such is the force of magic and my spells.

And he had no problem with the fee that was due.

So Faustus hath

Already done; and holds this principle,

There is no chief but only Belzebub;

To whom Faustus doth dedicate himself.

This word "damnation" terrifies not me,

Mephistopheles even gave Faustus a warning and a disclaimer.

Think'st thou that I, that saw the face of God,

And tasted the eternal joys of heaven,

Am not tormented with ten thousand hells,

In being depriv'd of everlasting bliss?

O, Faustus, leave these frivolous demands,

Which strike a terror to my fainting soul!

But Faustus would not listen.

What, is great Mephistophilis so passionate

For being deprived of the joys of heaven?

Learn thou of Faustus manly fortitude,

And scorn those joys thou never shalt possess.

Go bear these tidings to great Lucifer:

Seeing Faustus hath incurr'd eternal death…

…Say, he surrenders up to him his soul,

So he will spare him four and twenty years,

Letting him live in all voluptuousness;

Having thee ever to attend on me,

To give me whatsoever I shall ask,

To tell me whatsoever I demand,

To slay mine enemies, and to aid my friends,

And always be obedient to my will.

The deal was struck. Faustus got what he wanted. For the next twenty-four years he wielded power

Had I as many souls as there be stars,

I'd give them all for Mephistophilis.

By him I'll be great emperor of the world,

And make a bridge thorough [37] the moving air,

He partook of pleasure and popularity.

Sweet Mephistophilis, thou pleasest me.

Whilst I am here on earth, let me be cloy'd

With all things that delight the heart of man:

My four-and-twenty years of liberty

I'll spend in pleasure and in dalliance,

That Faustus' name, whilst this bright frame doth stand,

May be admir'd thorough the furthest land.

He caused one of history's lovliest women to appear, to become his mistress--Helen of Troy.

One thing, good servant, let me crave of thee,

To glut the longing of my heart's desire,--

That I may have unto my paramour

That heavenly Helen which I saw of late,

Whose sweet embraces may extinguish clean

Those thoughts that do dissuade me from my vow,

And keep my oath I made to Lucifer.

He rewarded his friends.

I pray you

tell me, what is the thing you most desire to have; be it in the

world, it shall be yours: 

And he cursed on his enemies.

…For one of (Faustus') devils turned me into the likeness of an ape's face.

But it came at an awful cost.

LUCIFER. Thus from infernal Dis do we ascend

To view the subjects of our monarchy,

Those souls which sin seals the black sons of hell;

'Mong which, as chief, Faustus, we come to thee,

Bringing with us lasting damnation

To wait upon thy soul: the time is come

Which makes it forfeit.

MEPHIST. Ay, Faustus, now thou hast no hope of heaven;

Therefore despair; think only upon hell,

For that must be thy mansion, there to dwell.

FAUSTUS. O thou bewitching fiend, 'twas thy temptation

Hath robb'd me of eternal happiness!

MEPHIST. I do confess it, Faustus, and rejoice:

'Twas I that, when thou wert i'the way to heaven,

Damm'd up thy passage; when thou took'st the book

To view the Scriptures, then I turn'd the leaves,

And led thine eye.

What, weep'st thou? 'tis too late; despair! Farewell:

Fools that will laugh on earth must weep in hell.

Such things chilled Ron--not that he perpetually thought of eternal judgement--but his belief in a spiritual dimension, immortality of the soul, and free will compeled a logical conclusion--there were some who would see eternal life--and there were some who would not.

There was an uncomfortable similarity with Faustus and magic to Grandpa Ron and his naco royalty earnings. But Grandpa had learned his lesson.

There was something here that was eluding him--a key to understanding how the example of Faustus applied to Ron's own great Quest.

On an impulse, Ron turned to a page he had noticed earlier. Here was a play by Marlowe's close acquaintance--about a closely related theme.

1606

THE TRAGEDY OF MACBETH

by William Shakespeare

Yes. Here was further clarification to understanding Faustus. Here was another who was tempted--and corrupted. He had made the fatal bargain.

His noble character was well-known.

For brave Macbeth -well he deserves that name-

Disdaining Fortune, with his brandish'd steel,

Which smoked with bloody execution,

Like Valor's minion carved out his passage

He encountered three witches, who told him his present--

All hail, Macbeth, hail to thee, Thane of Glamis!

--And his future--

All hail, Macbeth, that shalt be King hereafter!

A friend warned him to be careful of the predictions made to him.

And oftentimes, to win us to our harm,

The instruments of darkness tell us truths,

Win us with honest trifles, to betray's

In deepest consequence-

Macbeth himself was torn between the two courses of action--to do nothing--

If chance will have me King, why, chance may

crown me

Without my stir.

--Or to 'help' the prediction to happen--by assassinating the current king--

My thought, whose murther yet is but fantastical,

Shakes so my single state of man that function

Is smother'd in surmise, and nothing is 

But what is not.

He was honest with himself. He wanted power badly enough to act badly.

Stars, hide your fires;

Let not light see my black and deep desires.

His wife chided him for his indecision.

Yet do I fear thy nature.

It is too full o' the milk of human kindness

To catch the nearest way. Thou wouldst be great; 

Art not without ambition, but without

The illness should attend it.

And, like Faustus, she made her own prayer to the forces of darkness. She gave herself over to evil.

Come, you spirits

That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here

And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full

Of direst cruelty! Make thick my blood,

Stop up the access and passage to remorse,

That no compunctious visitings of nature

Shake my fell purpose nor keep peace between

The effect and it! 

She decided for them both.

Leave all the rest to me. 

The issue in question was of one who was a scholar, like Faustus--and warrior, like Macbeth.

Another remark by a Team Possible villain kept intruding into his recall.

Ron consulted his volume, repeating the search protocol. "Team Possible Mission Log Transcripts, Montgomery Fiske a.k.a. Monkey Fist," he told the audio interface.

Aunt Kim had her opinion of the man--

Lord Monty Fiske is a world-famous explorer and a highly respected scholar.

Team Possible mission coordinator Wade Load had his opinion--

The leading expert n on all alll things things simian is Lord Monty Fiske.

But Aunt Kim's partner, Ron's very grandfather, for all the fact of his intellectual laziness, saw the matter with clear eye.

His Lordship is five hundred miles of bad road.

Ron found the reference--several references. There it was. In the very words of Lord Montgomery Fiske, Tenth Earl of Westchesterwick, professor of archaeology, and collector of sacred artifacts and texts.

--From the Monkey King Amulet Mission.

I was destined to be Monkey King. According to the ancient text, there is still one way to achieve total and complete monkey-osity…

--From the Rocket Boosters' Open House Mission.

The Monkey Prophesy states that a team of monkey ninjas stands ready and the Golden Banana has been returned to its golden stand. The Ultimate Monkey Master will receive a sign. I shall await that sign…

…I am guided by the ancient prophecy of the mystical Monkey Monk…My dear, Frederick, it has been foretold that you would lead us to the stars. Destiny awaits us.

He was perfectly willing to utter threats and shed blood to 'help' the prophecy happen.

…You cannot fight destiny. It's just not done. Otherwise things here could get very ugly. Understand?

--From the Yamanouchi Student Exchange Program Mission.

At last... the ultimate weapon is where it belongs!

--From the Cambodian Monkey Temple Mission.

…Placing this icon in precise alignment with three others would generate a mystical monkey power…Mystical monkey power is reserved for me and me alone.

--From the Overdue School Library Book Recovery Mission.

Today dawns the age of the Phantom Monkeys, with me as Supreme Monkey King!…Fetch me the ancient text…behold the might of the Phantom Monkeys!

And his dismay when his artifacts were damaged.

My monkey idols!

Wade Load had provided annotations.

The temple was one of four built by the followers of monkey kung fu. Each temple had a jade monkey...According to legend, when the four jade monkeys were brought together, they gave the worrier mystical monkey power…The legend says that the worriers didn't want anyone else to get the power.

Legend holds that whoever wears the amulet becomes the Monkey King.

The words of Monty Fiske read like the words of Johann Faustus. And the deeds of Monty Fiske rivaled the deeds of Macbeth.

It was a stark and revealing account--obsession with magic--obsession with learning--disregard for fellow men and women--naked ambition.

He had stolen the Lotus Blade. And the Scroll of the Mandrill Monk sect. And he had almost stolen the Tempus Simia. And he had unearthed the Dark Temple of the Simian Valley, awakening the Yono.

With a shock of realization, Ron stood still. The final puzzle piece fell into place.

All the members of the King / Stoppable / Possible family tree had their gifts and talents. Each had their area of expertise.

James Timothy Possible was one of the nation's finest rocket engineers. His wife Anne Possible was a preeminent neurosurgeon. His mother Emily Possible had been a Navy underwater demolitions expert and a member of the O.S.S. His brother Slim and his twin sons Tim and Jim pursued rocketry as a pastime, if not a profession.

Abe Stoppable had been honored as Actuary of the Year decades ago by the national professional association, and was known in his congregation as a cantor.

Even in her short life, Kim Possible achieved a national fame in cheerleading, and worldwide fame in world-saving, and numerous forms of Kung-Fu.

Ron Stoppable had in turns been a renowned chef and a talented soundboard engineer and instrumental mixer--and he could read a cookbook like a financial analyst reads the stock listings.

And who was the family prodigy regarding sacred texts and philosophy? Who wielded the same mystical ability as Monty Fiske?

It was himself--Ronald Zimmer Possible.

And Ron realized--it was a word of warning from his Savior--_be wary--be cautious--don't presume--_

--Johann Faustus and Monty Fiske--the gifted and virtuous scholars who rejected good and embraced evil--who twisted their natural abilities and spiritual gifts--

--And Macbeth and Monty Fiske, the brave and valorous warriors who dabbled in prophecy and bartered away their valor and virtue to make the prophecies come true--

--And perhaps even, to an extent, Drew Lipsky, the embittered and ambitious scientist--

--None of these men were symbolic of Kim. Instead--

Then Satan entered into Judas Iscariot, being of the number of the twelve. And he went his way, and met with the chief priests and captains, how he might betray Jesus to them. (Luke 22:3-4)

But I subdue my body, and bring it into subjection: lest that somehow, after I have preached to others, I myself should become a castaway. (1 Corinthians 9:27)

Brethren, if someone is overtaken in any fault, you who are spiritual, restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness. Look to yourselves, so that you also are not tempted. (Galatians 6:1)

Faustus--Macbeth--Fiske--Lipsky--they were all symbolic of **him**.

_**to be continued**_

We finish with Faustus--maybe. But we'll return to Macbeth. And also the rest--Yori--Mariko--Tara. And our Heroine--and her Knight.

Some interesting reading I saw in Wikipedia--Christopher Marlowe's play created something of a sensation back when it was first shown in public. It was the one of the first times that summoning a demon had been portrayed in a play. Clergy preached against it--it glorified the devil--the actors would conjure an actual evil spirit. . It scared viewers--sort of like today's extreme horror movies.

For myself, it was a struggle to get past the archaic language, but once I did, I found it a fascinating and compelling story of the battle between good and evil--as much so as Star Wars--The Revenge of The Sith.

Take heart, my readers. Not all my chpt's will be like this.

On that note, let me ask my readers again. Putting classical literature, mythology, and scripture into the fic--show of hands--like or dislike? Also taking suggestions how to make chpt's like this more readable.


	11. Chapter 11: the blossoming of love

This has been a long time coming. My life has taken ups and down, what with job hunting and loneliness. A laptop crashed. A flash drive got erased. And a search for some software to restore it ensued. This chpt has been a year coming. I earnestly beg forgiveness of all my readers. I do not know if I can pick up the pace, but I will try.

This next series of chpts traverses the decades. In a way, it comes full circle. It preludes with the wedding in the back yard of Tara and Ron, the basis of all the Legacy tales. It picks up at the wedding of Tara and Ron's daughter in the very spot. And it ends at the same back yard, with the son of that marriage, recalling that wedding, and anticipating another. The in-between continues the chronicle of our hero Ronald Zimmer Possible at Yamanouchi.

My man daccu 65 refers to Ron Possible's girlfriend in his Family Legacy story. We've already met her. It's Mariko, daughter of Yori and Hirotaka. In this series of chpt's, we will flesh out the relationship a little more.

In his story A Box Of Cuddlebuddies, my man captainkodak1 refers to Tara King's uncle as working for the Cuddlebuddies company in his story. So I introduce Roland King, a VP for the Cuddlebuddies Corp., and his lovely wife, Roya. This is in keeping with the tradition I have established of giving members of the King family regal names...like Tara's parents, Regina and Templeton. There's also Templeton's widow, Sylvia.

There's a plot complication I'm trying to surmount...according to the parent story, Ron Possible spends five years at Yamanouchi...and I have to try and make it credible that he and Mariko are still only dating...albeit seriously...at the end of that time. After all, so upright a kid wouldn't dream of premarital intimacy. In this respect, he is like his grandfather. As we see in Rappin' Drakken, Ron Stoppable is all about procrastination. As Kim reminds us in Homecoming Upset, it took him fourteen years to kiss her.

Many of my readers of both this story and The Girl In The Box have clamored for Tara's punishment. But let me submit something for your consideration. The torment of an evildoer's own conscience. We see in the great Russian novel Crime And Punishment, by Fyodor Dostoyevsky, how a man commits a perfect murder, and then is undone by his own inner voice of accusation.

I gave Hirotaka a last name. I googled the most popular Japanese surnames and picked the one that was shortest..."Abé". Minimalist...emblematic of Buddhist simplicity.

Mrs. Reuben Stoppable née Starter...who thought her husband's cousin should still sit at the kids' table (Bad Boy episode) needed a first name. My gal and fellow K.P. fan writer LoveRobin suggested "Hedi", according to the K.P. naming scheme: "Hedi"; "Starter"; "head start". Besides, writing fan-fiction is a "heady" experience. So, in LoveRobin's honor, "Hedi Stoppable" it is.

I include Wade's family. His mother Ophelia Mahalia Load (her name is from the character in Shakespeare's Hamlet and the Gospel singer Mahalia Jackson), his step-father Lontaine Dupree (1st name from the K.P. episode The Cupid Effect, last name from the Isaac Hayes character, Angel Dupree, in the movie It Could Happen To You), his children Wynan (from the Gospel singing family) and Washonda (common African-American female 1st name), and Monique's brother (mentioned in the K.P. episode Pain King vs. Cleopatra), Marcel Watson (first name, a cool-sounding name...I thought...off the top of my head, last name is Monique's last name from the Kim Possible Japanese language Wikipedia entry.

I include Pain King and Steel Toe, from the Pain King vs. Cleopatra episode, in their nonprofessional personas as close friends of their Middleton fans over the years. Payton Ramon (whose name 'Payton' sounds like 'pain' or 'Payne', and 'Ramon', which derives from 'Raymond' which derives from 'rey', Latin for 'king'. and Antonio Toledo (whose name 'Antonio' derives from 'Tony', which derives from 'toe', and Toledo', derived from Toledo, Spain, famous for its steel blades in the middle ages.)

In fact, I handed out last names right and left. Heather and Quinn of And The Mole Rat Will Be CGI have become Heather Jetlear (combination of Heather Locklear and Learjet) and Quinn Tupple (from 'quintuplet'). Dex and Nicky Nick of the O Boyz have become Dexter Dumont (sounded like a cool last name) and Nicholas St. Rudolf (St. Nicholas, Santa Claus, Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer; that whole Yuletide thing).

We have already met Suzie Sheldon in previous chpt's. She is the great-granddaughter of Mary Giereanu, who is mentioned in K.P. A Sitch In Time. Here we catch a glimpse of Mary (formerly Giereanu), her husband George Sheldon.

I ran into a snag in recreating the scene from A Sitch In Time. A freckle-faced Kim Possible is trying out for Cheer Squad before Bonnie Rockwaller and...who? She's blonde; is it Jessica; or Tara?

The episode notes at KPFanWorld website indicate it's Tara. But your Compleat Kim Possible Ignoramus is obsessed with accuracy and faithfulness to the canon. He consults the screen caps at KPFanWorld and the fanpics at DeviantArt-dot-com.

Jessica has straight honey blonde hair, freckles, and a slightly tan complexion. Tara has very curly straw blonde hair, and pale complexion. Both have blue eyes. After careful examination of the scene your humble literary sleuth (moi) must conclude that the cheerleaders with Bonnie are Marcella and Jessica. But we will work Tara into that stage of Kim and Ron's lives.

The wedding scene of Ron's parents was a late addition to this chpt. I have peppered it with references to family members, both from the show and daccu's source story. There will be numerous hints and teasers as to how the lives of the Middleton folk unfolded.

According to Wikipedia, The Shoop-Shoop Song aka It's in His Kiss was written by Rudy Clark and became a rock and roll classic when recorded by Betty Everett in 1964. It's been rerecorded by many artists and groups since then. It became popular again when Cher recorded it in 1990 for her movie Mermaids.

I acknowledge my man The Enduring Man-Child for the union of Bueno Nacho Ned and Vivian Frances Porter in his fic's No Man Knows My Story and Too Good to Be True. Ned's last name, Flounder, is my own invention.

I acknowledge my man daccu65 for the union of Josh Mankey and Cheer Squad Liz. Her last name "Claremont" is my own invention.

I acknowledge my debt to the folks at the KPFanworld website for their episode transcripts and trivia. I spent beaucoup time last chpt analyzing Christopher Marlowe's play about Dr. Faustus and the similarities to the KP villains. I spent an equal amount of time analyzing the development of Tara's love for her husband in this chpt.

I concede that the readers might have trouble distinguishing between the characters with the same names. Allow me to recap. According to daccu's source story, Family Legacy, Tara and Ron Stoppable had three kids: Lon, Roy, and Kim. Tweeb Tim Possible and his wife had at least one son: Ron. (The Plot Bunny has divulged Tim's wife to be Karen. He might reveal more kids later.) Tara and Ron's daughter Kim Stoppable married Tim and Karen's son Ron Possible. Their son is Ron Possible Jr, the hero of our tale, whom I refer to as Ronald Zimmer Possible.

So, there you go. A bunch of Kim's and Ron's running around. And my own explanation has only served to confuse me more. But I've tried to differentiate between the K.P. the bride and the K.P. the Undead

_**from A BOX OF CUDDLEBUDDIES**_

_**by captainkodak1**_

…_Tara sat in front of her dresser mirror inspecting her makeup. She thought of Ron and what she hoped he would become in her life. Picking up a small brush, she dabbed at a loose strand of hair._

_"Tara, don't mess with your hair. It looks perfect. It's time dear."_

_Tara turned to face her mother._

_"Okay momma. Is daddy ready?"_

_Her mother giggled a little._

_"No dear, I don't think he will ever be ready for this day. But he is as ready as he will ever be."_

_Tara stood and let her wedding dress fall into place, then adjusted her veil. Her mom stepped over and rearranged her veil and then gave her daughter a kiss. Tara took her mother's arm and they walked out of room to the back door. Her dad was standing there waiting for her. Josh took her mom's arm and escorted her to her seat. The bridesmaids and groomsmen took their place and then it was time. The music swelled and she stepped out from behind the wall of the rear porch. All the wedding guests were seated on rows of chairs set up on the grass in the rear yard of her home. She looked up to see the love of her life standing there waiting for him. Ron looked so handsome standing there. Tara and her father arrived at the front of the church and Ron took his place at her side. The Pastor started to speak._

_"Dear Family & Friends, We are gathered here in the presence of Almighty God and this company to unite Tara René King and Ronald Eugene Stoppable in holy matrimony. Marriage is never to be entered into lightly, but reverently, discreetly, and in the fear of God._

_"Ronald Eugene Stoppable, will you take Tara to be your lawfully wedded wife; to live together after God's ordinance in the state of holy matrimony? Will you love her, comfort her, honor and keep her in sickness and in health; and forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto her so long as you both shall live?"_

_Ron took in a breath, gazing into Tara's eyes shining through her veil. "I do."_

_Pastor Davis continued as he turned to Tara._

_"Tara, will you take Ronald Eugene Stoppable to be your lawfully wedded husband; to live together after God's ordinance in the state of holy matrimony? Will you love him, comfort him, honor and keep him in sickness and in health; and forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto him so long as you both shall live?"_

_Tara's eyes were locked on Ron's chocolate eye's glittering through the mist of her veil. "I do."_

_Reverend Davis turned to Mr. King._

_"Who gives this woman to be married to this man?"_

_Mr. King stood straight._

_"Her mother and I and a very special friend."_

_Her dad gave Tara a kiss and turned to take his seat beside his wife. Beside him sat an empty chair covered in white ribbons and flowers. A set of Kim's mission clothes lay in the seat. The ribbon that crossed over the flowers read._

_"In loving Memory of Kimberly Ann Possible. We know you are here with us."_

_Ron turned to face Tara as her Pastor continued with the service._

_"Ron, will you repeat after me…"_

…_"Tara, honey, thank you."_

_Tara snapped back to the present as she looked up the see Mrs. Possible standing there. Tara stood and gave Kim's mother a hug. Mrs. Possible's body shook as she silently sobbed. Tara held her close until she stopped. Anne pulled back and dried her face with a napkin._

_"Tara, thank you for honoring Kimmie like you did. This is your day you didn't have to do that. It's….it's been five years since Kimmie went swimming that day and….."_

_Tara patted Mrs. Possible's hand._

_"Kim was very special to Ron and I know that if she had lived we would be celebrating her marriage to Ron and not to me. She loved him and he loved her. They would have been an amazing couple, and they would have rocked the world. Somehow, I really feel that she is here."_

_Mrs. Possible leaned forward and gave Tara a kiss._

_"You know Tara I feel the same way. Somehow I feel really close to Kimmie now. I know where ever she is, she is happy for you and Ron."_

_Tara glanced over to the Kim's chair sitting there in its place of honor. The lid to the cistern was directly under the spot where the chair sat. Kim was a lot closer than anyone ever would think._

_Mrs. King came over to Tara._

_"Tara, honey, it's time to cut the cake."_

_Tara gathered her dress up over her arm._

_"Okay momma."_

_She walked over to where Ron was getting ready for the two of them to cut the cake. A fly flew by and landed on the table. Tara shrieked and jumped back. Ron took a cloth napkin and swatted at the fly. Tara grabbed Ron's arm and snuggled up next to him. She grinned when she heard one of the bystanders speak._

_"That Tara is so lucky to have Ron. She is so sweet she wouldn't hurt a fly."_

_**from A HEROINE'S LEGACY**_

_**by **_

_**chpt 4**_

_**he has gone to his fathers**_

…_It had been the event of the summer in Middleton. Finally, the union of the Possible and Stoppable families. It seemed the entire city had turned out for the wedding. It was held in the back yard, as had weddings in Kim's maternal family for generations._

_There were the bride's parents, Ron and Tara Stoppable. The groom's parents, Tim and Karen. Even the grandparents. Jim and Anne Possible, Rachel Stoppable, and Regina King. Both Ron and Tara's mothers were now widows._

_Rabbi Katz was there. Not to officiate. The couple were married as Christians. But during the toasting of the couple, he pronounced a kosher blessing nevertheless._

_The time came for the happy couple to take their first dance together. Then the rest of the wedding party. Then the parents of the couple. Then the entire assembly of friends and guests._

_Lon kissed his sister's cheek as they danced. "Congratulations, sis. You make a gorgeous blushing bride."_

_And Kim blushed some more._

_Roy kissed his sister's cheek as they danced._

_"You're the holdout, Roy," said Kim. "Don't you ever plan on getting married?"_

_Roy shrugged. "Haven't found the right girl."_

_Mr. Dr. Jim Possible danced with Mrs. Dr. Anne Possible. "I think I could die a happy man, Anne. I've lived to see a Possible marry a Stoppable." And a sad look came into his eyes. "I only wish Kimmie-Cub..."_

_Anne kissed her husband's cheek. "I know, dear," she said quietly. The tragic death of their oldest daughter by drowning a quarter century before was a wound that would never heal._

_As the parents of the bride danced, Tara tried one last time to crack the ice between her and Ron. She looked up sadly into her husband's eyes. "Please? Won't you ever forgive me?"_

_Ron glanced past his wife. "Kim looks so happy today. It almost makes up for the other Kim." And he shot a stern glance at his wife. "Ask her forgiveness. Then come talk to me."_

_Tara bit her lip and tried to restrain her weeping. She excused herself and went into the house._

_The groom's mother Karen made her apologies. "It's all a little overwhelming. Last chick leaving the nest."_

_The guests nodded and sympathized._

_Karen and Regina King continued hostessing._

_Tara sobbed uncontrollably on her bed...what used to be their bed. It was the last wedding of their children. Never again would her husband take her into his arms...to dance...to embrace...to love. There was no more opportunity..._

_**A HEROINE'S LEGACY**_

_**chpt 11**_

_**the blossoming of love and the flowering of bitterness**_

In Nihon-koku, the land of the Sun-origin, or, the Sun's Rising, as Japan was known, the god Hachiman of the Shinto pantheon was the patron of farmers, fishermen, and warriors. He was the protector of the kingdom. When Christianity came to the kingdom, a syncretism, a blend of beliefs, took place. Hachiman became identified with St. Michael, the greatest archangel after Lucifer. And when Lucifer fell into high treason against Heaven to become Satan the Adversary, it was St. Michael and his angels who cast him out.

Such mergers of beliefs are common. Some feel they are harmful to the purity of the faith, a compromise, as it were. Some feel they enrich the faith tradition, like a new perspective. Truth is a keen sword. It cuts both ways. It can be sharpened, or dulled, according to how it is handled.

And so when Ron Stoppable came to Yamanouchi, there were opposing voices. Fukushima, who longed to be great, protested against the inclusion of an Outsider. Yoriko, who longed only to be near her Ron-san, championed his cause.

In what was both paradoxical and symbolic on so many levels, when Fukushima committed high treason against Yamanouchi with another Outsider, Monkey Fist, it was Ron Stoppable who cast him out, and preserved the legacy and purity of Yamanouchi's tradition.

It was as the Sensei had said. _"The trickle becomes a stream. The stream becomes a river, and in turn becomes tributary to a greater river. Stoppable-san and the Lotus Blade are connected by destiny."_

So it appeared to be. Ron Stoppable was the first Outsider to wield the Lotus Blade. He was the first warrior since Toshimiru, Yamanouchi's very founder, to possess both the proprietorship of the Blade and the Mystical Monkey Power, and so fulfilled the belief that Toshimiru and his successors were the bosatsu, the incarnation, of Hachiman. They were Hachimantaro. Yoriko became the first female Sensei of the Yamanouchi Academy. She herself would say that a traveler on destiny's river had no way of knowing what was around the next bend, what trickle would become a stream, and what stream would become a new tributary; when the river would be a slow flow and when it would be a swift torrent. It was only when looking from a higher vantage that such crucial points could be discerned.

_**in Tara and Ron Stoppable's back yard, Middleton, Colorado**_

It was the summer wedding reception of Kim Stoppable and Ron Possible in Kim's parents' back yard. Hundreds of guests attended. There were the bride's grandmothers, Regina King and Rachel Stoppable. There was even her step-grandmother, her grandfather's second wife and widow, Mrs. Templeton King. Others included great-aunt Roya King, great-uncle Roland King, aunt Hana Stoppable, cousin Reuben Stoppable and his wife Hedi, and cousin Sean Stoppable and his wife Lilo. The formerly-infamous cousin Sean was known in his youth for his evil pranks and his pet iguana, named Fluffy. He had outgrown his pranks and become a famous herpetologist. The bride, in spirit of love and whimsy, invited Sean to bring Fluffy IV.

After all, she wrote in the personal note she attached to the invitation, Dad had Sacky XXXVIII...or as he would say, 'Sacky Ex-ex-ex-vee-aye-aye-aye' in high school Hygiene class, referring to a humorous family yarn; so you'd be more than welcome to bring Fluffy aye-vee.

It gave Sean a good laugh; and out of regard, he left Fluffy at home. The empathy and accord had deepened between the cousins over the years. It was unspoken but understood what Rufus had meant to Ron. There might have been many Sackys...and several Fluffys...but there only one Rufus had been decreed.

Kim also had to smooth the ruffled feathers of Hedi Stoppable, who continued to bear an old grudge for the appearance of the prospective bride's father as the super villain Zorpox the Conqueror at her wedding more than a quarter century earlier.

On the groom's side were his grandparents, Anne and James Timothy Possible, known affectionately as Mrs. and Mr. Dr. P., his parents Karen and Tim Possible, his uncle Jim, his great-uncle Slim, Slim's daughter Joss, his great-aunt June, and June's son Larry.

Pastor Kelso Davis solemnized this union, as he had the marriage of the bride's parents, and the marriage of the bride's brother Lon Stoppable to Lorrie Mankey. He had baptized and confirmed the bride's mother, her brothers, and the bride herself. This would be almost the final act in a ministry that had spanned generations.

Relatives abounded in the wedding party. Ron's best man was Kim's brother Roy. Her other brother Lon was a groomsman. Kim's matron of honor was Lon's wife Lorrie. Their ring bearer was Lon and Lorrie's young son Carl, who bore the unmistakable Stoppable big ears, freckles, and unkempt hair...even if he had inherited the light ginger hair color of his grandmother Liz. The guests, especially the ladies, murmured affectionately as he appeared wearing his tux, solemnly carrying the two wedding bands on the silk pillow .

Carl himself could hardly take his eyes off his great-aunt Hana. She was a striking Asiatic beauty who bore herself with the courtliness of a priestess.

Kim had planned meticulously for the wedding and the reception. It was ironic. The daughter of Ron Stoppable was just like her father: a slacker in high school. Mr. Barkin had taken the trouble to remind her, as he reminded her brothers and her father. But she put her heart into this project.

It was more than just getting married. It was a desperate fix for a desperate sitch; to try and heal the marriage of her parents. She remembered growing up with warmth and love; and then sometime before her tenth birthday, it all stopped. Dad had moved out of the master bedroom and into a converted room in the attic.

Her brothers had noticed the change. In fact, her brothers became part of the change. First Lon, and then Roy, became aloof from their mother. Lon was actually hostile.

Kim was puzzled. Maybe there was an affair. Or a fight. No one would tell her a thing. But she wasn't going to stand still. Her fiancé's cousin Joss had drilled it into her. _"Mah cuzin Kim culd do anythin'! She wouldn't let nuthin' stop 'er!"_

So she had decided; if Kim Possible could do anything, then so could Kim Stoppable. She would try to kick-start her parents' love by helping them to remember what it had been like. She would turn the reception into a veritable reunion of the Middleton High Class of 2007.

Her fiancé thought it was a weak idea at best, and she gently scolded him. "C'mon, Ron-ster! Head in the game! Work with me! It'll be fun!" She threw a Puppy Dog Pout at him for good measure.

Ron Possible, aka the Ron-ster, sighed, and laughed. His Keem-Posseeblay had him dead to rights. Between the lovely pout and the nickname, he was a goner.

Lorrie's parents, Liz and Josh Mankey, would already be coming. The former Liz Claremont was part of the old Cheer Squad. So were the bride's father, mother, and Bonnie Flagg, all of whom still lived in the Middleton area.

nee

Mary, née Giereanu, her husband George Sheldon, and their children attended. The family was also the Stoppables' neighbors.

Zita Renton, née Flores, and her husband Felix Renton attended.

There were some who were dear family friends...

...Dr. Vivian Frances Porter, eminent robotics expert, and her husband, Ned Flounder. She was Mr. Dr. P.'s old colleague from the Middleton Space Center and Propulsion Lab. He was Ron Stoppable's old coworker from Bueno Nacho.

...Arthur Smarty, son of the founder of the Smarty Mart discount department store chain. He had grown from a self-indulgent alternative culture youth into a innovative corporate head, known for his social and environmental awareness.

...Sheila Barkin, formerly Gogh, formerly Lipsky, and her husband Steve Barkin. Both were past members of the Middleton High faculty.

...Britina St. Rudolf, former pop singer and her fiancé, Dexter Dumont, former member of the Oh Boyz. They had become engaged a year after the death of her husband, Nicholas St. Rudolf, aka Nicky Nick, also a former member of the Oh Boyz.

...The famous married actors, Heather Jetlear and Quinn Tupple, and their family.

...Payton Ramon, aka professional wrestler Pain King, and his family.

...Antonio Toledo, aka professional wrestler Steel Toe, and his family.

Kim had continued the custom started by her mother at her wedding and carried on by her brother Lon at his wedding...an unoccupied chair crisscrossed with white ribbon, holding a bouquet of white flowers and the treasured keepsake mission suit. It was both at the family section during the ceremony and at the wedding party table. It was in memory of the legendary heroine who had touched so many lives and perished so young...the bride's namesake, Kim Possible. The set of clothes were neatly folded and kept in a supple polymer wrapper. The fabric would never decompose or fade.

It was both a grave and sacred moment when the bride lifted her glass and toasted her long-dead aunt Kim. "I never knew my Aunt Kim. But I'm told she was a lot like my cousin Joss. She had the same zest for life, and the same love for people. I'm going to miss my dear family friends Monique Load, who gave her life while helping people, and her husband Wade, who was mission coordinator for Team Possible practically all his life. And I want to remember Brick Flagg, my parents' high school friend, who gave his life in the service of his country. And so in memory of both the victims of violence and those serve and protect...God bless them all."

At the Possible family table, Slim had doffed his ever-present Stetson hat as a sign of respect. Joss spoke up. "Ah still miss mah Aint Kim. Ah still remember her sayin. 'It's whut Ah dew...the hailp thing.' Ah know she's with the angels, lookin' down on us." Mrs. Dr. P. sniffled and hugged her niece.

At the Load family table, sat Wade Load's mother, Ophelia, his stepfather Lontaine Dupree, Wade and Monique's two children Wynan and Washonda, Monique's brother Marcel Watson, and all the family members. They all raised their glasses and murmured their thanks.

Bonnie Flagg, Brick's widow, raised her glass and nodded.

For the wedding party dance, the bride had chosen what was her mother's favorite song; the Shoop-Shoop Song; or as it was better known, Does He Love Me.

This version was a remake by Britina St. Rudolf and MC Honey. Britina had dedicated to Ron Stoppable for saving her when she had OD'ed after a concert; but that is another story. Britina consented to sing her own lyrics, and Washonda Load, Wade's daughter, sang the MC Honey lyrics

Britina: Does he love me? / I wanna know! / How can I tell if he loves me so? / Is it in his eyes?

MC Honey / Washonda: Oh no! You need to see!

Britina: Is it in his eyes?

MC Honey / Washonda: Oh no! You make believe! / If you wanna know / If he loves you so / Its in his kiss!

Both: That's where it is!

Britina: Oh yeah! Or is it in his face?

MC Honey / Washonda: Oh no! It's just his charms!

Britina: In his warm embrace?

MC Honey / Washonda: Oh no! That's just his arms! / If you wanna know / If he loves you so / It's in his kiss!

Britina: That's where it is!

MC Honey / Washonda: Oh,ooh, oh! Its in his kiss!

Both: That's where it is!

Duet chorus: Oh, oh, oh, hug him! / Squeeze him tight! / Find out what you wanna know! / If it's love, if it really is, / It's there in his kiss!

Britina: How 'bout the way he acts?

MC Honey / Washonda: Oh no! That's not the way! / You're not listenin' to all I'm sayin'! / If you wanna know / If he loves you so / It's in his kiss!

Britina: That's where it is!

MC Honey / Washonda: Oh, ooh, oh! Its in his kiss!

Both: That's where it is!

It rocked the house. The guests rose to their feet in thunderous ovation.

After hugging both Washonda and Britina, the new bride watched as her mother left the reception to go into the house. She watched her father's stony face. She felt a pang of sorrow. It was a desperate plan; a forlorn hope at best. "It didn't work, Ron," she moaned quietly.

Ron kissed his wife's forehead. "I see that, hon," he whispered. "It was the thought that mattered. We'll make our own happiness. There'll be room in our lives for them, too. And whatever their problem was, I won't let it bother us. I promise you."

Kim sighed. Her Ron-ster was right. The past was what it was. Nothing could change it. They would just get on with life. Neither she, nor anyone else, had the slightest supposition that they would mourn her beloved father's death before the end of the year.

Reuben Stoppable's wife Hedi, formerly Hedi Starter, nursed a long-standing grudge; and a slightly vindictive wish. She kept hoping something would happen to her husband's cousins like what happened to her...at her and Reuben's wedding, Ron Stoppable had arrived in the persona of a super-villain: Zorpox; and had necessitated a rescheduling of the event. It had taken much persuasion by Ron's friend and mission partner Kim Possible, Ron's parents, Hedi's fiancé, and much apology by Ron himself to persuade Hedi to forgive and forget.

She honestly wished the couple success and happiness for the rest of their lives. But she would not have grieved if Shego, Señor Senior, Jr., or some other reformed Team Possible foe had gone bad again at least invaded Ron's wedding; or the weddings of one of his children. She was, however, saddened by the disappearance of Kim Possible and her assumed death by drowning. They had become close friends. Hedi was grateful for Kim's intervention at her own wedding that prevented any serious injury. She had looked forward to Kim being a member of the family. She grieved at the heroine's death and was disappointed that Ron had married Tara King.

But not Hedi Stoppable, nor Sheila Barkin, or for that matter, anyone else had the slightest idea that someone was close at hand at each of the weddings in the big back yard; that of Tara and Ron's, and those of each of their children who married. It was both her old friend and a super-villain. It was the wearer of the mission suit so lovingly preserved in the empty chair crisscrossed with white ribbon. It was Kim Possible herself, buried in a cistern under their very feet. And despite Joss Possible's assertion, Kim was most definitely not with the angels.

And had Hedi, Joss, Sheila, the new bride, or anyone ever learned it, they would have regretted their curiosity...unto their dying day.

And despite the assurances of the new husband, the "problem" between the bride's parents would indeed someday "bother" them.

_**nineteen years later; in the walled enclosure on Mt. Yamanouchi, Japan**_

Ron Possible faced Hirotaka Abé. Both were dressed in white gis. Both bowed.

"You are ready, Possible-san?"

"Yes, Abé-sama."

Hirotaka made the first move. He took a crane stance, then threw a kick. Ron countered with a swipe of his left forearm, then jabbed with his right hand. Hirotaka parried with his right palm, leaving Ron's right flank exposed, and landed a left-handed punch on Ron's ribs. He pulled the punch, but Ron still let out a muffled cry. Hirotaka backed up while Ron caught his breath.

Ron bowed, and Hirotaka pressed the attack again. He threw a series of quick blows. Ron dodged left and right, then back-flipped. He landed in a stance. Hirotaka's foot thrust out again. Ron countered with a kick and a spin. Hirotaka offset with a spin and a kick himself. They fell into the manta style, and for the next few moments, it was a succession of spins, leaps, jabs, and leg sweeps.

Yoriko clapped her hands twice. Both separated and bowed. Both breathed deep several times to catch their breaths. "That was well done, Possible-san. You may rest a moment."

Ron bowed. "Thank you, Sensei." He turned to Hirotaka. "And thank you, Abé-sama, for the honor of this match.

Hirotaka bowed. "Not at all, Possible-san. The honor was mine."

The other students stared. Some had been attending for years. But whether they had been at the school for a long or short time, none could ever recall seeing a newcomer counter the master's moves so quickly.

Yoriko clapped again. "Students! Resume your exercises!" She approached her spouse. "And have you taken his measure, my husband?" she asked quietly.

Hirotaka leaned close and spoke in a low tone. "Two wonders I have seen today, my dear wife. The first is that I am still as agile as I was when I was his age."

"For which I rejoice," said Yoriko with a lifted eyebrow. "And the second is..."

"The second part of our match was an exact repetition of a match I had with another Possible-san...back in my youth."

Yoriko raised both eyebrows. "Kimberly Possible-san? Are you quite certain?"

Hirotaka nodded. "Quite sure. Each move was precise. Such skill from one not formally trained as a ninja is not forgotten. She was a virtuoso. And so is he. How he accomplishes such a thing amazes me. Either he has studied her style so thoroughly that he mimics her...or else he carries a measure her chi."

Yoriko glanced at Ron out of the corner of her eye. "I would say both are true."

"One thing is certain; I can teach him little. There only two here more accomplished than he. Our daughter and yourself."

"You honor me, my dear husband. And speaking of our daughter, have you not noticed? There is a third wonder." Yoriko nodded her head toward Mariko, who had been watching Possible-san with rapt attention. "She appears to be enamored with him."

Hirotaka rubbed his chin. "Hmm. Will this pose a difficulty?"

Yoriko patted her husband's hand. "I will speak with her."

_**five years later; in Tara Stoppable's home, Middleton, Colorado.**_

Ron had finished the chicken noodle soup. He ladled broth and noodles into two bowls. The recipe was handed down from the Bergstein's, his great-grandmother Rachel Stoppable's family. It was not especially complicated. Boiled chicken to make the broth, and homemade pasta rolled out and cut into lengths to make the noodles. But it was not the spindly noodles found in commercial chicken noodle soup. These were robust noodles, each nearly as thick as a pencil. A bowlful of the Bergstein chicken noodle soup was a hearty meal. He arranged various cuts of meat on a platter: thighs, breasts, and wings. He set the platter, the two bowls, and a variety of spices on a tray. Traditionally, the soup and chicken were separate. The soup could be seasoned to taste with ginger, cinnamon, or curry,

He was about to close the cover to his huge cyber-book. He touched the Ronnunicator that was under his shirt, in a Lakota medicine pouch around his neck. He was about to log off the program when he noticed a flashing icon on the lower corner of the page. There were incoming messages. He touched the icon. More icons appeared. Familiar faces. Uncle Lon, Uncle Roy, and Mom. Ron Stoppable's three children. Obviously, they were calling to update on Grandma Tara's condition. Also was Carl, Uncle Lon's oldest.

Ron grinned to himself. Yes, it was good to be home. The Stoppables were a close-knit family, and whether one wanted to or not, one was drawn into the circle of love. Ron definitely wanted to. There was the unfortunate chill between Grandma Tara and her two oldest sons. He now understood why. They had been his predecessors in the guardianship of the Undead Kim Possible, and they resented her for the chilling crime, and the solemn duty that been thrust upon the family for seemingly all time to come.

There were more faces. Grandpa Tim and Great-Uncle Jim. Ron smiled. The Possibles were equally close-knit. These were the notorious 'Tweebs', Kim Possible's two younger brothers. The loss and presumed death of their sister as they were just growing up marked their lives profoundly. Instead of splintering, the two households had only grown closer. But what a ghoulish quirk of fate. The beloved heroine they thought lying peacefully in eternal rest...perhaps at the bottom of Middleton Lake, somehow undetected in the intensive search...was in reality entombed under the gazebo in the Stoppable back yard. Her transformation had been every bit a fearful as the stories of mythology. Izanami. Scylla. Charybdus. Medusa. Lovely women dreadfully changed into unimaginable predatory monsters.

And last of all, an icon appeared whose face was not associated with the family...at least not by blood...yet. Her family history was profoundly tied with the Stoppables and Possibles. It was a lovely...and beloved...face. She had gray eyes, her mother's features, and her father's hair: Mariko Kansumi.

Checking the log, there were several messages from her, from several hours old to a minute old. He grimaced. He was so intent on watching the audio video footage of his Aunt Kim, he hadn't noticed anything else.

He would leave a voicemail. "Hiya, Mari; uh, sorry about that. Didn't mean to ignore you. Um, I'm here in Middleton, of course. You knew that. Something came up with Grandma. We spent the night at the Medical Center. She's fine. Miss you."

And before he could sign off, another message popped up. The beautiful face appeared . Mari. Sensei Yoriko's daughter. Ron's girlfriend. This was not a recording. This was live feed.

She beamed her usual flashing smile. "Hey, Hon, I've been trying to reach you for hours!" And her adorable pout appeared. "I've missed you!'

Ron almost laughed. It was so cute; and it seemed to be universal. The Puppy Dog Pout, which his Aunt Kim had perfected, was now used to good effect by any number of his acquaintances. By dreadful and heartrending irony, it was the very one whose existence he had learned of only last night.

That kept him from laughing. That and the fact he had once laughed at Mariko's Puppy Pout cuteness, which had caused her to run from him and burst into tears. It had taken a lot of apologizing to reconcile. It was a hard lesson. The Stoppable American-style buffoonery sometimes had adverse consequences. Even Ron-shine was sometimes obscured by overcast conditions. But he only smiled warmly. "Then I apologize and humbly ask milady's pardon."

Mariko's flashing smile returned. She loved the gallantry. It was not exactly American-style. It could hardly be catalogued. It was like the ancient Japanese courtesy; and the ancient European chivalry. Her mother had once called the quality 'poetic'. "Guess what?" she said. "I'm in town."

Ron stared in amazement. "Here? In town? In Middleton? When? For how long?"

"I decided to do something unexpected in honor of finishing your time at Yamanouchi!" She waved perkily. "So...surprise! What'cha doing?" That was Mariko's way. She was as spontaneous as Ron was predictable.

"I'm, uh, fixing lunch here...listen! Are you at the airport? I'm coming right out! I'll pick you up!" He was practically jabbering with excitement.

"Hon! No, no! it's a crime to stop you from cooking! Tell you what...I'll catch a ride to your grandmother's house. Then I'll find a place to stay."

Ron frowned. "Find a place? My dear young lady...you already have a place to stay. It's going to be my honor to make you feel at home here at Grandma's house."

Mariko looked dubious. "Are you sure it'll be okay with her?"

Ron winked. "She's going to love you as much as I do. Now get over here, and I'll fix you something to eat."

Mariko smiled. "I was hoping you would say that. I skipped lunch on the flight over from Tokyo. Be there soon. Love you!" And she blew a kiss.

"Love you, too," said Ron. The transmission ended, and he took the tray up to Tara's room.

"Ronnie?" asked Tara. "Who called?" Her grandson was barely managing to suppress his excitement.

"Oh, that was my girlfriend...Mariko Kamsumi"

Tara paled. "G-girlfriend?"

Ron nodded. "I've known her the whole time I was in Japan. We just recently started dating."

Tara bowed her head. She was stricken to the bottom of her heart. A girlfriend. He was already planning for his future...and I've saddled him with this perpetual responsibility. She looked up again. "Kamsumi...that name sounds familiar."

"It is. She's Sensei Yoriko's daughter. We met when I started training at Yamanouchi. I invited her to spend the evening."

Tara forced a smile. "Invite her to stay with us. There are several spare rooms. She's certainly welcome to stay as long as she wants."

Ron smiled. "Already done. She'll be here in a few minutes."

The lunch was delicious. Tara ate in silence. She savored the taste of food prepared with the same talent her husband had possessed; and reproached herself for this new development.

When lunch was done, Ron took the tray back to the kitchen. And Tara was left alone with her thoughts.

The name "Yoriko" had opened a floodgate of memories. It was like a clap of thunder; a great resounding bell of alarm. _Yamanouchi...my husband's other life. His Yori...my Ron's other love. I let her sit beside him at Kim's funeral. I thought I could outlast her. What was I going to do? Plot the untimely demise of every rival? All my sins are being remembered. What was I thinking when I walled up Kimmie in that cistern? I told myself I could make my Ron happy. I told myself life was long. I could repent of my awful crime. The dead past could bury the dead. But I was fooling myself. It'll never die...just like Kim. It's going to haunt me...for the rest of my life...for the rest of eternity. And I've laid the same unthinkable burden my descendants. God help me…God help me._

Ron glanced out the front window. And sure enough, a cab was pulling up to the front curb. He had estimated correctly the time it would take for their guest to arrive from the Tri-City International Airport.

"Mari!" He raced out the front door.

Mariko was just getting out of the cab with her backpack, valise, and carry-on suitcase. "Ron!"

They raced toward each other like long-lost lovers. He picked her up and twirled her about. She cried excitedly and hugged his neck. Then they kissed a long, unbroken kiss.

After what seemed like many moments, their lips parted. "Welcome to Middleton," said Ron quietly.

"Glad to be here," answered Mariko quietly.

He had time to notice how she looked. Her now-longer hair was pulled back into a ponytail, tied with a red ribbon; not quite like the way her mother had worn it; above the bangs at her forehead. She wore her classic skirt, jacket, and dress shoes. "You didn't pack much for a trip to America."

She winked. "Just like you didn't pack much for your first trip to Japan. It's my honor to travel light. Besides, it'll give me an excuse to visit the local mall with you at my earliest opportunity."

Ron insisted on carrying all the luggage into the house...and promptly tripped on the front door threshold. Mariko stifled a chortle. She could hear her mother's voice echoing the words. "The sons of Stoppable-san are all masters of the Monkey Kung-Fu and the Mystical Monkey Power...but they are otherwise hopelessly afflicted with the American-style clumsiness."

Tara had come downstairs from her room. She took it all in at a glance; Ron and the luggage in a heap and Mariko trying to suppress her laughter.

The girl was indeed a beauty; visibly Yoriko's daughter. And here she was, in the very house, more than a quarter century after Yoriko's last visit.

Tara's sons had suffered the fate of all high school geeks: they were overlooked by the girls close at hand. Lon and Laurie Mankey, Josh's daughter, had been friends all their lives, and had finally realized a mutual love after high school. Roy had not married. But her husband's first serious romance was the daughter of a warrior caste, in an ancient fortress, on a windswept mountain, in the heart of a former empire...the ultimate realization of never being normal. And her grandson had obviously followed suit.

Tara braced herself to welcome her guest, who was a living reminder of a grievous hurt. But Mariko's slender arms wrapped around her first in a tight squeeze. "Oh, Mrs. Stoppable! My parents have talked about the people from Middleton for my entire life! Ron has shared all your letters and pictures! I feel like I already know you!"

The wring on Tara's heart was just as tight as Mariko's loving embrace; and much more painful. No one really knew her...except those who knew the gruesome gazebo mystery. And her sons never showed even a trace of the warmth that Ron was displaying; and that might be for the sake of the new guest.

Ron was as giddy as a child on Christmas. "Uh, Grandma, meet Mari...Mari, meet my Grandma...well, actually, I guess you've already met...I was about to fix Mari some lunch."

Both women smiled. Ron was completely flustered, and it was tremendously endearing.

"Well, don't wait," said Tara, "Let's get our guest fed."

"What would you like to eat, Mari?" asked Ron. "There's still some chicken soup."

Mariko brightened. "Your chicken soup? Oh, Ron...that's worth another trip across the Pacific!"

Ron got Mari seated at the dining room table and served a bowl of soup. While he was taking her luggage upstairs, she finished the bowl, and Tara refilled it.

She emptied the kettle. "I swear, Mrs. Possible, with the right marketing, Ron's chicken soup could replace sushi as a national dish."

Ron came back and noticed the empty kettle. "Well," he smiled, "That's the best compliment I could hope to get."

"Oh, Ron, it was delicious," said Mariko, dabbing the corner of her mouth with her napkin.

Ron helped her out of her chair. "Come on. I'll show milady her chambers. Your mother would say I was remiss in my duties as a host if I didn't practice the hospitality demanded by the Bushido..."

Mari looked intently at him.

Ron was feeling conspicuous. "What? What did I say?"

Smiling craftily, Mariko turned to Tara. "Mrs. Stoppable...for the five years I've known your grandson, he always talks like this. At first, I thought he was trying to impress me...but he never stops. Has he always been a know-it-all?"

Tara smiled. "Always. He gets it from the Possible side."

Ron grimaced, half in seriousness and half in self-depreciation. "I'm glad to know that my efforts to act polite can also be the source of so much amusement."

Both Mari and Tara burst into laughter. The chastened look on his face reminded Tara precisely of Ronnie's grandfather and great-uncle on his father's side: Tim and Jim Possible. The original Tweebs, had the same browbeaten expression when they had been scolded by their father for some prank.

"C'mon, Ron-dog," said Mariko, embracing him. "Cheer up. We still love you."

Tara almost gasped aloud. It was like a knife being plunged into her heart. "R-Ron-dog?"

Ron shrugged. "Her nickname for me."

Tara was momentarily stunned. Her breath caught in her throat. She almost burst into tears. _Ron-dog_. That name hadn't passed from her lips or touched her ears since the night of Kim Possible's escape. A marriage died that night; and all her hopes and dreams with it. It had been more than forty years. Ronnie's mother was not yet ten years old. How did Mariko ever hear that expression? Did word filter down through the Possible family? Or from Yoriko?

Ron knew all the terms of endearment that had been lavished on his grandfather. He could perceive the trauma his grandmother was undergoing. It grieved his heart; and he wished he could take her aside and comfort her; but Mari's arrival had been unexpected; and such consolation must wait.

Both Mariko and Ron took her luggage this time. He led her upstairs. "This was my mom's old room. It's still decorated like a teenager's room...just a little different from your room back at Yamanouchi."

Mari looked around at the boy band posters, stuffed animals, and pink floral curtains. "I love it. Your mother was a stylish decorator." She slipped into Ron's arms and winked. "I bet Mom's Ninja Sensei senses are kicking up a storm back home. I'm alone with my boyfriend in his mother's old bedroom and he's putting the moves on me ."

Ron blushed and laughed. "Mariko Kamsumi...you are such little rascal. I bet you couldn't wait to get out of your folks' sight."

Tara heard the sounds of smooching. There was no reconciling the awful dilemma she had foisted on her grandson. He had entered his manhood. He had found someone he was attracted to; someone who was as enamored with him.

The older woman clasped her hands with such force that her knuckles turned white. _He's more that just a boyfriend to her._ A violent urge took hold. She would afflict herself...she would disfigure her appearance...like the penitents and mourners of ancient times. With her own fingers, she would gouge the eyes from her face and rip the living heart from her chest...if only it would serve to erase her crime...

...By the time, Mariko and Ron had come back downstairs, the fit had passed. Tara took a deep breath. "So, Ronnie...what are your plans for the rest of the day?"

Ron smiled slyly. "Well, I was going to check the pantry, maybe do some shopping; but now that we have company, I thought, why don't we have a small dinner party...just the three of us. We can celebrate Grandma's discharge from the hospital and clean bill of health, my housewarming in my new residence, and Mari's arrival as our honored guest. And I think we have enough items to make homemade nacos."

"Nacos?" exclaimed Mari. "Great! Mrs. Stoppable, can you believe I've known Ron for five years, and have never tasted one of the famous Stoppable Nacos?"

"But it'll take a while," said Ron. "The neighbor girl Grandma looks after made pasta with me this morning, but we used it all for the noodle soup. "

"That's okay," said Mariko. "We'll keep busy with the girl talk." She took Tara by the arm. "Mrs. Stoppable, I've always wanted to hear about Ron's childhood. Has he always been as big a bookworm as he is now?"

While Ron was busy in the kitchen, he glanced out every so often. Tara and Mari were seated on the sofa. Tara had open the big picture album and a pile of other albums and scrapbooks on the coffee table. He rejoiced. This was what his grandmother needed.

_**to be continued**_


	12. Chapter 12: Tara's tale

How I write fanfic's: a plot idea hits me. I rough out a story beginning. And once I have a foothold, I devise a story ending. And from there, I fill in the middle.

This is not a cheerful sort of comparison, but I find it helpful. When America's two space shuttles were destroyed, Challenger on January 28, 1986, and Columbia on February 1, 2003, much effort was expended to salvage all the missing parts. Each presented their own unique daunting obstacles. Challenger was at the bottom of the ocean. Columbia was spread over southern Texas. The parts were assembled in giant hangars.

Even so is my story spread out over an area of computer memory. Computer A (the Laptop) was my workbench. And it started to expire. I guess dropping it didn't help. The DVD drive, the firewire port, the memory card port…it was gradual senescence. I had begun to transfer files to Computer B via USB drive…'cept the files copied incomplete. *Sigh*. Nothing is simple. I contented myself with putting the stories on the USB card. I still used the old computer for composing my stories. Then something zapped the USB drive and erased the stories. Erased files, of course, are still there. The delete command simply tells the computer to ignore them until they are overwritten. That drive became my new holy relic…kept in a safe place until I could find a program that both worked to salvage the files and was affordable.

The salvage is not complete. Some files are beyond retrieval. What erased them? The devise was in my pocket. Was it my cell phone? Was it the infuriating motion sensor that kept beeping at the grocery where I had my temporary job as a stocker? Meh. It's of little import. Computer A finally gave out. The monitor froze one day, I rebooted, and now it's in perpetual standby mode. With the incomplete files of my USB device and Computer B, we proceed to reconstruct the manuscripts, Dead Sea Scroll style. We assemble the plot piece by piece in my oversized virtual hangar.

It isn't as bad as I make it out to be. It's sort of like putting a relatively simple puzzle together. The interesting part is incorporating the new chpts that I still continued to compose while I was searching for the undelete software. The Plot Bunny, it won't wait for something as trivial as the temporary loss of one's notes. One must compose new notes. That's the way of authors; scattered records everywhere; from Anne Frank to J.R.R. Tolkien.

We come to the next installment. When last we left our heroes, an elderly Tara Stoppable and her grandson Ronald Zimmer Possible had welcomed Mariko Kansumi, daughter of Yori and Hirotaka as their guest. Tara is still recovering from the fearful shock of seeing the young neighbor girl, Suzie Sheldon, dressed as Kim Possible for Halloween, after the yearly talk with the real Kim, an Undead…unliving, but still very much animated, and consumed with maniacal hatred for not only Tara and her family, but everyone. Mari's presence is like another mute accusation against Tara for her crime.

Ron Possible, meanwhile, is mum about his own plan. The mission spirit of his grandaunt Kim is strong within him. _"It's no big…it's what I do…the help thing,"_ as she would say. It is the family legacy that a member of the

Stoppable family, imbued with the _Mahō no saru no nōryoku_, the Mystical Monkey Power, must keep Kim from escaping. But Ron's dream is to see her restored; to see her redeemed.

The bottleneck for this part of the story is the account of high school Tara King and her friends. This is one of the side trips my plot bunny has taken me. Bit by bit we will learn Tara's blossoming love for Ron Stoppable…and what finally led her to commit a horrid murder. As lame as it sounds, this is what has occupied me for the last year or so since the completion of chpt 10...The Rest Of The Story, as the late radio commentator Paul Harvey says…the narrative hinted at in the series.

_**from chpt. 11**_

_Tara heard the sounds of smooching. There was no reconciling the awful dilemma she had foisted on her grandson. He had entered his manhood. He had found someone he was attracted to; someone who was as enamored with him. _

_The older woman clasped her hands with such force that her knuckles turned white. He's more that just a boyfriend to her. A violent urge took hold. She would afflict herself...she would disfigure her appearance...like the penitents and mourners of ancient times. With her own fingers, she would gouge the eyes from her face and rip the living heart from her chest...if only it would serve to erase her crime..._

_...By the time, Mariko and Ron had come back downstairs, the fit had passed. Tara took a deep breath. "So, Ronnie...what are your plans for the rest of the day?"_

_Ron smiled slyly. "Well, I was going to check the pantry, maybe do some shopping; but now that we have company, I thought, why don't we have a small dinner party...just the three of us. We can celebrate Grandma's discharge from the hospital and clean bill of health, my housewarming in my new residence, and Mari's arrival as our honored guest. And I think we have enough items to make homemade nacos."_

_"Nacos?" exclaimed Mari. "Great! Mrs. Stoppable, can you believe I've known Ron for five years, and have never tasted one of the famous Stoppable Nacos?_

_But it'll take a while," said Ron. "The neighbor girl Grandma looks after made pasta with me this morning, but we used it all for the noodle soup. "_

_"That's okay," said Mariko. "We'll keep busy with the girl talk." She took Tara by the arm. "Mrs. Stoppable, I've always wanted to hear about Ron's childhood. Has he always been as big a bookworm as he is now?"_

_While Ron was busy in the kitchen, he glanced out every so often. Tara and Mari were seated on the sofa. Tara had open the big picture album and a pile of other albums and scrapbooks on the coffee table. He rejoiced. This was what his grandmother needed…_

_**A HEROINE'S LEGACY**_

_**CHPT. 12**_

_**TARA'S TALE**_

The first time I met my Ron was the first time I met my dear friend Kim Possible. We were twelve years old, and Bonnie Rockwaller was holding tryouts for the Cheer Squad.

I wasn't in the Inner Circle...so I didn't get to be on the Tryout Committee. I watched from the bleachers.

Kim still had her braces and wore her hair in a ponytail. She already had a reputation as one of the most helpful students and babysitters in school...with her own website! That was initiative! Bonnie disliked her for just those reasons. She decided to give Kim a routine no one could do. Well...Kim did it. Bonnie bit her pencil clear through.

Marcella and Jessica applauded. Bonnie let her join...if she hadn't, they would've elected Kim as Captain then and there. Anyhow, my Ron burst in...he wasn't my Ron yet. He was chattering about a 'hit on the website'.

Later, we found out Kim had rescued a billionaire. I swear, Bonnie was all set to bite through another pencil. She thought Kim was getting a huge reward. And when she found Kim was helping people just because she liked to...using cheerleading skills...getting rides to exotic locales from famous people like Britina and MC Honey...so help me, I thought Bonnie's face would freeze, with the frown and the glare.

Ron would come with Kim to the Cheer Squad practice. He had Rufus with him. I thought Rufus was cute. But Ron...well...it seemed anyone with a pet in his pocket or on his shoulder was lame.

I still thought Ron was kind of lame. He had the reputation of still riding a trike when everybody else rode a two-wheeler...and he brought pastries to school he had made with his Granny Crockett Oven...and he got rides from Kim dragging him all over the city in a wagon hooked up to her bike...and she had to keep him from getting beaten up all the time.

I shouldn't talk. I admired someone who was so inconsiderate: Bonnie. Any boy I liked, she would already flirt with; like Walter Nelson; or Brick Flagg; or Josh Mankey.

We were all Bonnie-wannabe's. Justine Flanner...the class brain...had a word for it...'Bonnabe's'. I didn't find out until years later how much Bonnie wanted to be like her older sisters.

I tried to wear my hair just like Bonnie. Hair-washing was such an ordeal. I would put up my hair in rollers every time. I would buy every kind of straightener the store had. Bonnie made fun of it. "So...Smarty Mart has a new brand of hair care product?" she would say. I so envied Marcella with the straight hair.

But Ron remembered me from seeing me in grade school. "Didn't you have curly hair?" he asked.

And I told him, "Yeah...so what?"

And he said, "Oh...I just thought it looked really badical." And then he took off.

And I stood there like a fool, with my mouth open. Bonnie yelled something I didn't even hear.

So I started letting my hair grow out. And Marcella, Jessica, and I weren't Bonnie's little drones any longer. But Miss Food Chain got her revenge. We weren't 'in' anymore. We didn't get to the parties for the next few months...not that we really missed it. We just hung out together.

Then somebody called the school office and said we were seen smoking. Mr. Barkin called the three of us into his office one day.

They called in all our parents, too. I felt like crying. I think we all cried. It was so piddling. There was this zero tolerance policy against tobacco.

Mr. Barkin was sure we were innocent. We were all health nuts. We were on the girls' volleyball and basketball teams. But he had to suspend us from extracurricular activities for a week or so. Which meant no Cheer Squad...which sucked.

Marcella and Jessica had their suspicions who made the call.

Kim and Ron were really getting into the 'mission' thing. She met Wade Load through her website. He set her up with a computer terminal in her locker and her own personal handheld device. She called it a 'Kimmunicator'.

They went lots of places...like I said. The rainforest, the arctic circle; all over the world. Plus, she was on the student council, the yearbook committee, the swim team, the honor society; and she kept up a straight 'A' average.

I would watch her on the news. How she moved...it was like...wow. They kept calling it "Le Parkour" or "freerunning".

Ron sort of...well, his...and Kim's...word for it was 'marinating'. He took leisure to a new level. He was constantly late with papers and assignments. Besides that, he, um, played video games.

Kim had some trouble getting used to Rufus. She kept calling him the 'hairless freak'. Then she found how helpful she could be. He fixed her printer one time when she had to print a history term paper she had due.

But even Kim ran into trouble. She was late getting to class and Mr. Barkin caught her. It was the third time in one month. He put her on detention.

The Cheer Squad was shocked...even Bonnie. "Cheerleaders don't get detention!" Oh, yeah. The Goddess had spoken.

Then a really big situation...Kim would call them a 'sitch'...came up. Kim and Ron went on a mission to an island in the Caribbean. In retrospect, it was really significant. It was their first mission against Dr. Drakken and Shego. Kim came back with some kind of miniature bomb attached to her nose. Shego and Drakken invaded the high school. Kim skipped out on Detention. She and Ron made a getaway on his scooter. Mr. Barkin panicked and followed in the Drivers' Ed. Car.

Shego and Drakken followed in a hovercraft. It was like a chase scene in a bad comedy movie. Kim and Shego trashed the local Bueno Nacho...certainly not the last time. Ron disarmed the miniature bomb. They were heroes, Drakken and Shego were in jail, and Kim turned the Detention Room into a nail salon. Poor Mr. Barkin. His outlook of Detention was, as he called it, a "time of penitential suffering'". It took a body blow. So did his masculine self image.

But Bonnie wasn't done. She was on Kim's case all the time. Kim would yawn during Cheer Squad practice. Bonnie would innocently bring it up.

Then Kim would mention she had been to Abu Dhabi rescuing an ambassador. And Bonnie would ask something totally absurd, like, had Kim given the squad her full hundred-and-ten percent?

Kim told Bonnie she had given a hundred-and-twenty percent...which I was ready to believe...'cause Kim was that kinda person when it came to commitment. But you can never top Bonnie. She says the squad deserves a captain who gives a hundred-thirty percent.

I overheard Jessica say, "Yeah, right. We would need two captains for that."

It was one of those things nobody said but everybody knew; Kim might go for co-captains; but never Bonnie. She just flipped Jessica the bird behind her back.

Then things got ugly. Bonnie and Kim were in each others' faces. Bonnie called Kim "K". Kim called Bonnie "B". It was a good comeback; but it sounded too much like "bitch". I just wanted to duck and cover.

Bonnie called Kim "Little Miss Smug Mug". She threw down the challenge. "I will be Squad Captain!"

And Kim threw it back. She told Bonnie to "take it to the squad! If they want Bonnie instead of Kim, super for Bonnie!"

Bonnie came up with a fundraising scheme: selling chocolate bars. And she used her father's money to rent a semi trailer truck full of chocolate bars. She made the rounds while Kim and Ron were off on missions. The most we saw of them the next week was in-between their trips abroad.

I admit we all got carried away. I was all gushy with Kim. "Thanks to Bonnie, we got new uniforms! Aren't they badical?" I told her.

While they were away, Bonnie wanted the captain thing decided then. I worked up the nerve to tell Bonnie to her face. "Uh, I really think we should wait for Kim before we decide who's gonna be captain."

When Kim got back, Bonnie was all set. But Kim pulled a surprise tactic. She nominated Bonnie as the new captain...which threw Bonnie for a curve.

Kim had admit the fundraising, the uniforms and the new cheer rocked. She asked who was in favor of Bonnie.

I asked Kim; had she lost her mind?

She just winked at me and told Bonnie she deserved it for all the hard work

Bonnie was like, "Yes! Glad that's over!"

And Kim was all sweet. "Bonnie, you're the captain now! You do realize the hard work's just beginning?"

Bonnie looked ready to keel over. "You're kidding, right?"

And Kim couldn't be happier for her.

Ron saluted her and called her "Captain Bonnie."

I had to sneak out before I started laughing.

The next Cheer Squad practice was so lame. Bonnie just moaned she was working hard, it was so unfair, and no one understood her...totally different from Kim. And Kim was back to captain by next practice.

We also went back to the old uniforms. Turns out Bonnie didn't really buy them. They were on consignment. They got, um, repossessed; one of those things that conventionally got forgotten by Captain Bonnie.

Bonnie sort of got back at Kim during Spirit Week

It was obvious Kim was crushing on Josh Mankey. Not that I blame her. He was artistic; and quiet; and a lot of girls were infatuated.

Ron was asking out almost every girl in school. He could just sit down at a table and it would clear. The problem was, he would try and be cool...like "This arm is going to the dance Friday night. Who wants to be on it?"

I could've told him that it wouldn't work.

He tried face-to-face a few times. Mary Giereanu said how she was in the school library getting a book out and there Ron was, peeking through the shelf, asking her out. She stuffed the book back in his face.

There was one afternoon at Cheer Squad practice, Josh was hanging up a banner for the dance, and Ron came in with a bullhorn

Ron looked so cute...I thought...blurting on the bullhorn.

"Attention, ladies! It is I, Ron Stoppable. Contrary to popular belief, am not dating Kim Possible, which is good news for you, Josh Mankey. There is a rare hole in my social calendar for this Friday. Please note. I am a bon-diggity dancer. Thank you."

Kim hid her face with the palm of her hand.

Jessica and Liz started laughing. I couldn't help it. I had a giggling fit. I started hiccupping. I ran into the bathroom. It was awful. I was like, "_*Hic* _OmyGod! _*Hic* _You guys! Don't _*Hic* _let him see _*Hic* _me!"

When I came back, everybody was still there. Josh was on the stepladder hanging the banner up, and Kim still hadn't asked him.

She had us practice the Doghouse Pyramid. Bonnie, Hope, Jessica, and Liz, were kneeling on the bottom row. Then Crystal, me, and Marcella were the second row, on their shoulders. Kim was on top...on my shoulders.

Wade Load called on the Kimmunicator. Ron took the message. He had to blurt again...on the bullhorn.

Kim was nervous; Josh on the brain. She got distracted and lost her balance...and the Doghouse Pyramid went down. On the way down, she grabbed Josh's banner...and tore that off.

Wade told Kim he found Dr. Drakken and asked if she could get away. Kim told Wade she would rather be anywhere else.

Josh just sat looking miserable on top of the ladder. I could sympathize. I was starting to like Ron. I was wishing he would ask me personally. I would've accepted in a minute. Why didn't I ask him? I was still timid. I didn't want the hassle Bonnie was giving Kim.

The next day, my 'friends' on the Cheer Squad...except for Kim, who was dreamy over Josh...or Bonnie, who just loathed both Kim and Ron too much...all they had to do was whisper the words "Bondiggity Danceh!" and I would start giggling and hiccupping. Mr. Barkin gave me that look. I was afraid I would be the second Cheer Squad member in the history of Middleton High to get detention.

Bonnie hung out with a bunch of girls from the upper-class Courtney Luke, Maria Rodriguez, Natasha Putin, and Julia Roberts...and they all asked Josh. And he all turned them down. Well...you kids wouldn't know any of those girls except Bonnie.

A little light went on in my head. I realized Kim had become the person I wanted most to be. If she could work up the nerve to ask Josh, I could work up the nerve to ask Ron.

It was Thursday and Kim still hadn't asked Josh. Actually, I was hoping she would. That would leave Ron alone so I could ask him…except he was still asking other girls. And I didn't want an audience, any more than Kim did…

_**to be continued**_

A / N. And here we must halt. The remainder of narrative is still under construction. It was my original wish to deliver to my readers a completed work…but I'm so far behind, I wanted to give you something to demonstrate my commitment to continuing this story. I had a great deal of fun composing this. When the ideas do come, it's in a torrent. I hope you have as much fun reading it. Strictly speaking, it isn't a retelling verbatim of the episodes…merely Tara's point of view, and so there are parts present and parts absent.

I take time out to remember my man Screaming Phoenix, who went to his eternal rest just days ago.

He gave me my tagline in a review he left me for one of my stories. "The boy who hates school so much, is well unto his way to his advanced degree in the care and feeding of Kim Possible." For me, it sort of sums up the role of my man Ron Stoppable, and his grandson in this tale.

He shared with some of us that he had a big operation coming up. He got through it, but stuff like that can take a lot out of you. And it seems his strength just gave out. My man Sentinel 103 was our point man for keeping us in the loop.

In the weeks before his surgery, I asked him if he would like to read some of my rough draft. And so I sent him sample chpts of pivotal events. Some of it he liked, some he was a little unsure of. He's now become part of a bigger story…as we ourselves must one day become. Vaya con Dios, y'all.


	13. a pleasant evening, but a dark night

Mumble. Mutter. Groan. A year and a half on a single chpt. This is not to be borne.

There are stories a-brimming on my stovetop about Ebenezer Scrooge, the Phantom, Belle and her Beast, and Kim in the cistern. There are stories at my DeviantArt site of Kim Renewed.

But on this story, there's been a world-class writer's block with Tara's tale of reminiscences. So…I've decided to play leapfrog and proceed with the action. We hope the reader will bear with us.

I'm posting the next few chpt's 1-2-3...you'll get the idea. I apologize for the confusion this might engender. Please indicate in your PM's or reviews, and I'll try to clarify. Big kudos and props for my readers' patience

The action of last chpt, where Tara recalls the high school years, will be completed…someday. (Wan smile.)

_**A HEROINE'S LEGACY**_

_**chpt. 13**_

_**a pleasant evening…but a dark night**_

For a moment, Mariko and Tara chatted like a couple teenagers.

Ron had spend the afternoon making the soft tortilla shells and chopping the tomatoes, onions, chilies, and pickled jalapeño peppers. He combined some of every variety of cheese he could find in the house

He looked out to call Mariko and his grandmother to supper...and he almost jumped in shock…

...His grandmother wasn't there. Instead with Mariko was a teenaged girl with long curly blond hair. A teenage girl who somehow looked stunningly familiar…clad in a Cheer Squad uniform of the early century.

He blinked and shook his head. He wasn't mistaken. It was an adolescent girl sitting next to his girlfriend. "Uh-um," he stammered.

Both females looked up.

"Supper's ready, ladies," he called.

The blond girl's limpid blue eyes blinked. This was no erroneous impression. It was Tara René King, the way she looked as a high school teenager, more than sixty years ago. "Hey!" She babbled excitedly. "Let's eat here! In the living room! My Ron used to say, 'Never be normal!' Sitting around the dinner table can get so conventional. He was all about informality."

The bubbly girl took charge of setting up the buffet arrangement on the coffee table. To Ron, it was like watching his mother, Tara's daughter, prepare the service for a catered event.

They all sat cross-legged on the floor and ate and drank with gusto.

"Ron!" said Mari, her mouth full, "Thif if delifiouf!"

"I told you!" said Tara enthusiastically. "Thank you, Ronnie, for making this. It's just like being in high school again." Both girls giggled and tried not to spew bits of food or choke.

Ron was hard-pressed to talk and act normally. The reality of his grandmother contrasted with the incongruity of someone who sounded and acted like a high school sophomore…who, by all appearance, was a high school sophomore.

…He shook off his reverie. The daydream faded. It was his grandmother with his girlfriend he was looking at.

They finished the meal, cleaned up the plates and glasses, and sat back on the chair and sofa.

"Mrs. Stoppable?" asked Mari, "Did your husband look as much like Ron as the pictures make it seem?"

Tara nodded and winked. "Just like."

Ron acted self-conscious and awkward...but he was delighted to see his grandmother looking happy...

...And for just a brief moment, she was... "Mari, I met your mother a couple times. She showed up once at the high school. And then for my friend Kim's funeral. Tell me about your family."

Mariko cleared her throat. "Well...Mom and Dad married late in life. And I'm an only child."

Tara waved her hand nonchalantly as though dismissing it. "A lot of people do that. My friends have often told me I should marry again after my Ron passed on...but, well...the kind of love I felt for him only happens once."

"Dad tells me how much he admired your husband, Mrs. Stoppable."

"Ah. They must have known each other at your school."

"Actually, my father was an exchange student here."

Tara raised an eyebrow. "Here?"

Mari nodded. "At Middleton High School."

"At...Middleton."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Tara scanned all the faces she could remember. "The...the only Japanese exchange student I can remember is...Hiro...Hiro..."

"Hirotaka Abé." offered Mari. She turned the picture album back to the page they had looked earlier.

"Hirotaka..." Tara gulped. "…Hirotaka's your father."

Mari blushed, smiled awkwardly, and nodded. "I should've mentioned it when you were talking about him. But I didn't want to interrupt your story."

Tara nodded. She tried to appear casual. She had to do something to take the edge off the terrible shock. As inconspicuously as she could, she gripped the arm of the sofa.

The realization upset her badly. _The daughter of both Yoriko and Hirotaka...in my house. _That accounted for the resemblance Tara couldn't quite put her finger on.

The cold hand of fate she felt continually clutched around her heart gave it an extra squeeze. Her heartbeat pounded in her brain. It was yet one more slender thread in the tangled skein of destiny. She remembered Hirotaka, the exchange student, with crystal clarity, . With the marvelous hair, the low voice, the faultless manners, and the stellar sex appeal. Bonnie had called him 'Motorcycle Hotness'. The entire Cheer Squad...including Tara...and Kim...even the entire female student body of Middleton High...had swooned over him. It was one more piece to the vast convoluted puzzle her life had become.

Yoriko had obviously married him after her visit to this very house...on the last night of Ron Stoppable's life. That would make Mariko only a little older than Tara's grandson Ron. Fate would inflict Tara again with the living reminder of another time _Please, God. This unending torment. Make it stop._

Mari noticed Tara's distress. Her gaze went from grandmother to grandson.

Mariko Kansumi and Ron Possible shared a marvelous empathy. She could not guess the reason for Tara's distress. But she felt it. Was it okay to lavish a little solicitous concern?

Ron nodded. It was okay.

She smiled warmly. "My father remembers all his friends with great fondness, Mrs. Stoppable...his 'number-one-girlfriend', Mrs. Flagg...all the members of the Cheer Squad. He was an incurable flirter. But he always tried to be a behave like someone with class.

Tara nodded and smiled weakly. "Your father was that, Mari...the consummate gentleman. He even kissed me twice...once on the hand and once on the cheek

Mariko glanced up at Ron and winked. "Hey...after a long day of just sitting around and a wonderful meal, shouldn't we have some music?"

Ron nodded. "I know my gal and her favorite song. Music it is." He spoke louder. "Music player. 'It's In His Kiss'." And the room's electronic voice-activated media player began to play the song.

_Does he love me? / I wanna know! / How can I tell if he loves me so?_

The knot in Tara's chest rose to her throat. She was aghast. She could hardly breath. Mariko's favorite song was also Tara's favorite song. It had been played at her wedding...and the at wedding of both her married children.

_(Is it in his eyes?) / Oh no! You need to see! / (Is it in his eyes?) / Oh no! You make believe! / If you wanna know / If he loves you so / Its in his kiss! / (That's where it is!)_

Mariko grabbed Ron's hand. "Come on, Ron-dog! Dance with me!"

Ron shrugged again. "She's kinda impromptu."

Tara smiled bravely, in spite of the inner torment and the sense of irony. Clearly, her grandson was smitten.

The song's lyrics continued to play.

_(Oh yeah! Or is it in his face?) / Oh no! It's just his charms! / (In his warm embrace?) / Oh no! That's just his arms! / If you wanna know / If he loves you so / It's in his kiss! / (That's where it is!) / Oh,ooh, oh! Its in his kiss! / (That's where it is!)_

_Oh, oh, oh, hug him! / Squeeze him tight! / Find out what you wanna know! / If it's love, if it really is, / It's there in his kiss!_

The girl was spontaneous. Artless. Completely natural and guileless. She had obviously captured the boy's affections. And he had also snared hers. Tara closed her eyes and for a moment bade the remorse keep at bay. She remembered happier days...when she still imagined her husband might somehow overlook her horrible deed. She let herself pretend, for that moment, that she was transported back.

Ron was watching his grandmother out of the corner of his eye. "Wait a minute," he told Mariko.

Mari nodded. "Okay."

Ron went to his grandmother and grabbed her hands. "C'mon, Grandma...you too. Mom and Dad tell me they played this song at their wedding reception for you and Grandpa to dance to."

Tara protested weakly. "Ronnie…!"

But her grandson would not be refused. "C'mon, Grandma…show us kids how it's done!" he said, roguishly.

The dance at their daughter's wedding was the last time Tara's husband had ever taken his wife into his arms... The twist in her heart was almost unbearable

It was exquisite agony. Her grandson had stood before her as though he were his grandfather, asking her to dance at the Spirit Week Dance.

Between the sweetness of remembering the high school occasion and the torment of remembering the wedding occasion, her heart felt as though it was being slowly plucked from her chest.. But she consented to be lifted to her feet and join hands with the other two, like ring-around-the-rosy

_(How 'bout the way he acts?) / Oh no! That's not the way! / You're not listenin' to all I'm sayin'! / If you wanna know / If he loves you so / It's in his kiss! / (That's where it is!) / Oh, ooh, oh! Its in his kiss! / (That's where it is!)_

_Oh, oh, oh, hug him! / Squeeze him tight! / Find out what you wanna know! / If it's love, if it really is, / It's there in his kiss!_

And with that, Ron released Mari's hand and swept his grandmother up into both arms.

"**Ronnie!" **cried out Tara, as he lifted her up and twirled her about. He beamed at her a magnificent smile

"Grandma," exclaimed her grandson, "You're **still** a 'bon-digetty Dancer'!"

After a few rounds, Tara broke off. "Ronnie...my doctor would have a fit if he saw me dancing."

For a moment, Ron took both his grandmother's hands in both of his and kissed her fingers. A serious gleam was in his eye. "I think we both know, Grandma...your physical heart is fine. It's your spirit. You've been in a prison. Let yourself be shown the way out."

Mari watched, bemused. It was a moment between them she did not entirely grasp…but she did not have to.

Tara was stunned. For an instant, the sense of self-reproach and guilt that covered her like a blanket was flung back. It was as though her grandson was put in the stead of her husband and sons, not only as the Chosen of Yamanouchi, but as the formal head of the Stoppable household, the chieftain of the clan, endowed with authority; and he was offering her a...pardon. The door to her prison swung back.

A pardon...an absolution...for her awful wickedness. A complete forgiveness. What she had pled for from her husband and sons. An abundant mercy. Freely given at last. Her soul hopped and frolicked like a fawn. A feeling of innocence shone on her like warm sunlight. And just quickly, it was smothered like wet burlap on a candle.

The prison door clanged shut…by the refusal of Tara herself to embrace the offer.

Her own thoughts accused her. _How can it be? How could my grandson even begin to love a murderer like me? My own sons despise me. And I can't blame them. Ronnie's just saying that because Mariko is a guest. _ Tara smiled wanly. "It's been a long day. I think I'll go to bed now."

Ron hugged her and kissed her cheek. "You sleep well. You've got me here to take care of you."

Mariko also hugged and kissed her. "Thanks for all your hospitality, Mrs. Stoppable." She glanced up at Ron and winked. "And you needn't worry about your grandson and me. I won't let Ron take advantage of me. My mom has certain, um, abilities." She winked slyly at Ron. "As a Ninja Sensei, she can sense certain things from a distance."

Tara tried to smile bravely. _That's not what I'm worried about, Mariko. _She started to walk up the stairs to her room.

"Grandma, I'm going to show Mari the back yard," said Ron.

"Okay, dears," she said. She kept her thoughts to herself...both the incredulity and the bitterness. She excoriated both Yoriko Kansumi and herself. _I thought I could keep Yamanouchi away from me, with half the world between us. And now Ronnie brings it with him. It's one more reminder. What was your mother thinking, girl...letting you and my grandson date? She knows the family legacy. What was my grandson thinking...letting you come here? Hah! Listen to me! You're young and in love, Mariko...determined to let nothing stand in your way. I know exactly what that's like. You crossed an ocean to be with your man. I crossed an even bigger barrier...the line between right and wrong...and there's no going back._

It was a clear night for the first of November. The stars were out and there was just a hint of chill in the air. Mari huddled under Ron's arm around her shoulders. They stood in the gazebo.

She gazed attentively around the spacious back yard. "So this is where the wedding took place."

Ron nodded. "Yep. My grandparents had their ceremony and reception here in the back yard. Grandma sort of followed the tradition set by her parents. My great-grandparents on her side got married here...Templeton and Regina...and my uncle, Lon and his wife Lorrie."

Her brow furrowed. "I know you've told me this over and over…but be patient and remind me one more time about all the family connections."

He nodded. "Okay."

"Now…oh, my…uh, Lon and Lorrie are Carl's parents."

"Uh huh. And Aunt Lorrie is the daughter of Liz Claremont and Josh Mankey."

"Liz from Cheer Squad and Josh Mankey, Middleton High School heartthrob and painter.

"Precisely. And my folks are Kim and Ron."

"Kim **Stoppable**…the daughter of our own former Lotus Master…and Ron **Possible**…the son of one of the two notorious Tweebs." She pressed her hands to her temples and her lovely eyes widened in confusion. "So your mom was named after your great-aunt on your dad's side?"

"Yep."

"And your dad was named after your grandfather on your mom's side?"

He smiled. "Uh huh. You're getting it."

Mari laughed. "Oh, Ron…I'm going to need a diagram to keep all this straight. Your grandmother obviously didn't have any difficulty in naming her daughter for her husband's legendary girlfriend."

"Not a bit." Ron nodded...stretching the truth just a smidgen. "Grandma and Kim were the best of friends. Grandpa used to say she had a way about her...a big heart. Always helping people. Anyone around her was her friend. And her family was the same. Once they knew you, you were a part of it. The charity drives Great-grandma Possible organized for the medical center...the field trips Great-grandpa organized for the Space Center...all the charity and civic work they did. They had the biggest Christmas decoration setup in the Tri-City area. And this almost mystical bond they had."

"Mystical bond, huh? Like you and me?"

"Well...you know...Grandpa and your mother had their own bond."

Mari smiled sassily. "I know. I guess it's lucky they didn't hook up. Otherwise, it would be like incest for you and me to be dating."

Ron chortled. "Girl, you are bad!"

"Tell me about it, boy! Mom says I get it from my dad's side."

He began to tease her. "Y'know, you're lucky you're dating me. It's good for you. It'll tame that inner wild child."

And she reciprocated. "And you're lucky you're dating me...it gives me a chance to take the stuffing out of your shirt."

"Stuffing?" he retorted. They playfully wrestled for a moment.

"Ron-dog!" she said laughingly. "Be nice! Don't be a wild child!"

She inadvertently tripped him. He pulled her down as he stumbled. Their light laughter sparkled like wind chime music in the night air. Then it subsided. They stood up, brushed themselves off, and walked aimlessly around the yard near the gazebo. Mari kept turning her head, looking in various directions.

"Mari...what're you looking at?" asked Ron.

Mari was deep in thought. "Oh...I'm just thinking...if I were to have a wedding here...how would I plan it?"

"For crying out loud!" said Ron in a frantic whisper that could be heard plainly. "Don't let Grandma overhear you! She'll freak!"

But Tara did overhear them. Every word from her bedroom. She had the window just ajar, and listened intently...just like Ron's conversation earlier with Suzie Sheldon. Ron's girlfriend? These two were much more than girl-and-boyfriend.

The woman peeped out through the curtain at the young couple. It broke her heart. Like her father, Mari might be a shameless flirt, but she was also completely sincere. The purity and simplicity of this romance contrasted with the thought of the gruesome Undead thing imprisoned under the gazebo.

While Tara watched Mariko and Ron, a quick succession of scenes came to her memory...dragging Kim's unconscious body to the cistern...shoving the lid shut as Kim screamed for mercy...watching the workmen seal the area with cement, fully aware of the living occupant...marrying her husband and dining at her wedding party table, fully aware of what she thought was the dead body under their feet...years of croquet and games of tag and picnics...watching the gazebo being constructed after Kim's recapture...and the weddings of her oldest and youngest children

And finally, the great ocean of remorse that Tara had kept at bay all day broke upon her shore. It ate its way through the barrier of her heart like acid. The daughter of her husband's lover...uttering her husband's nickname...dancing to her favorite song...the tidal wave overwhelmed the collapsing dike and the flood engulfed her.

Guilt upon guilt was heaped on the old woman's soul. The claws of self-reproach left great unseen gashes on her heart. _ This is like a black hole...sucking everything and everyone in who's near. I should've thrown myself into the cistern with Kim when we sealed her back in, after Lon accidentally let her loose. Oh, God, where will this end? How many families is this curse going to involve? That sweet girl...she has no idea. And who am I to tell my grandson that it would be better to break up with her?_

Tara pressed both hands to her chest and drew a gasping breath. The clutch of shame and guilt was like a great corset around her.

She opened her Bible as she lay in her bed. She had taken to reading it much in the past few years, looking for comfort and absolution. Her eye fell on a passage in the Epistle to the Hebrews, the twelfth chapter and the fifteenth verse.

Look carefully. Make sure no one falls short of the grace of God. Make sure no root of bitterness springs up to trouble you, and by it many become defiled.

She slowly closed the cover of the Book. A single tear fell from her eye onto the black leather.

The cold unseen hand that gripped Tara's heart seemed to be crushing it to a pulp. _Look carefully...hah! I wasn't looking for God sixty years ago. I just wanted my Ron...at any cost...even if it meant Kim's life._

She had allowed the root of bitterness to take hold in her heart. It had made her mad with jealousy. It had driven her to kill her best friend. It had grown to full flower. And by it she had become defiled. Like a creeping vine, it had slowly wound itself around her life and her marriage. Like a thorn bush, it became an impenetrable barrier between her and her husband; and between her and her sons. It lacerated her heart, and the hearts of all who knew the vile secret.

And others were becoming inextricably entangled...her daughter-in-law Lorrie, Liz and Josh Mankey's daughter…her son-in-law Ron, grandson of Mr. and Mrs. Dr. P…the grandchildren...Lon and Lorrie's children. All the former family and friends, so thoroughly hated and resented by the Prisoner in her ghoulish insanity. And now Hirotaka and Yori's daughter...and even George and Mary Sheldon's great-granddaughter, Suzie. Potential sacrificial victims...all of them. There seemed to be no end to the innocents that the creeping vine encircled.

Tara's cup of sorrow overflowed. She broke into tortured weeping. She flung herself on her face and muffled the noise with her pillow. _This is unendurable…I can't bear it…I wish Kim had killed me that night…I'd gladly switch places with her now._

Mr. Dr. P.'s old joke about the "Black Hole Deep" opened like the jaws of devouring beast. Tara had dug a hole no cistern lid would cover. Her son-in-law's old joke about perpetual motion flung open a window onto a scene that stretched into a distance without limit. Tara had initiated a thing that would never end. The maw of Hell gaped at her feet. It would widen. It would draw her in…and all whom she loved.

She bawled as though her heart would burst with wretchedness. And the sounds of her sorrow...like the torment of her heart...was not heard beyond the walls of her bedroom. _Please, God...please! Take my life! I know it's too late for me! Let me take whatever punishment I have coming! But not these others! I beg You, Lord...not them!_

But the only answering voice the distraught woman heard was in her memory. It was the furious howling of Kim Possible the night before...the creature who even now festered under the gazebo like an undiagnosed disease. The evil thing throbbed like a living abscess . The pump room had rung with the screams of the demonic Undead One as she made her unceasing demands the blood of the Stoppable children.

Tara's shoulders convulsed with sobs. She cried until her eyes were dry and her throat raw...until she fell into a restless exhausted sleep.

_**to be continued**_

I can hear the questions now. What happened to Monique and Wade? I've sort of alluded to that in my parallel story, A Heroine's Legacy: Conversations From The Pit Of Hell. And what's the deal with Shego and Barkin? And Britina and Dex? And Heather and Quinn? Well...you'll just have to wait and see.

What was the big idea? It's how the story took itself. While Kim has been in her prison for the last sixty years, people and things have come and gone in the world above.

This story has gone in strange directions. It only grows in the telling...like with the inclusion of Vivian Porter and Ned. I'll be in the middle of one scene and the plot bunny will thump his leg on my noggin or wiggle his whiskers in my ear and suggest, "What if thus-and-so happened?" And then I have to go and rewrite whole vast sections of the story...like the development of Mariko's character...like the events in the lives of all the secondary characters. Brick Flagg's death I've borrowed from my story A Time For Tenderness. Wade's family history I've borrowed from Three Redheads And A Spider.

Even now, ideas are banging around in my brain...like a chpt about Ron Stoppable's funeral...or a chpt about when Roy Stoppable discovers the family legacy. I'm creating my own fanon from the ground up. To quote Motor Ed..."Bro...this is 'way complicated...seriously."

These plotline and others will be explored and developed as our tale unfolds. It's like a detailed painting on a vast sprawling canvas. But I hope the readers will like it...when I finally post the finished product.

And we'll learn what about this mysterious vision Ron Possible had of his grandmother as a teenager is about.


	14. Chapter 14 a seer of visions

This chpt is an explanation of some of Ron's Other Sight and how it fits in with his Christian faith. I applied my mad investigative skills.

Be warned. The Born-Again Bible Thumper pulls the stops out. Scriptural references and doctrine. Other references to mystical phenomena are from Wikipedia...the fan fiction researchers' friend.

All glory to the Author of the Good Book and the Author of Life...the Creator, from Whom all creativity and blessings flow.

_**A HEROINE'S LEGACY**_

_**chpt 14**_

_**a seer of visions and a dreamer of dreams**_

Tara Stoppable had finally fallen into a remorseful, guilt-ridden asleep. Mariko Kansumi had fallen into a happy, contented sleep. Ron Possible lay awake...in deep thought. He contemplated what he had seen last night. His eighty-year old grandmother had temporarily appeared to him as a sweet and stunning seventeen year old. He would've called it a delusion...except this was not the first occasion.

There was no mistaking it. For yet one more time, He was experiencing Other Vision.

It wasn't, strictly speaking, a part or facet of the Mystical Monkey Power. It went by various names. Clairvoyance. The Sight. The Sufis called it _Kashf_; Unveiling. The Celts and Scots called it _Darna Shealladh_; Second Sight.

It was a gift...an ability...to see, hear, and know things beyond the material realm. It might be temporary or lifelong. It might be constant or intermittent. It might show things hidden in the human heart...or in the spiritual world. And...of most vital importance...it might come from one of two sources...holy or hellish...divine or devilish.

The teaching of the Faith was strict in regulating the practice of mystical abilities.

Do not allow this among you: presenting your children as a burnt offering; using signs to foretell the future; using magical charms; talking to spirits or the dead. Yahweh hates these things. He has evicted those from the land who do them. _Deuteronomy 18:10-12._

Then Yahweh said to me, "The prophets prophesy lies in My name. I did not sent them, neither have I commanded them, neither did I speak to them. They prophesy to you a lying vision, a nil thing, and the deceit of their own heart." _Jeremiah 14:14._

Beloved, do not accept every spirit as true, but test the spirits, to see if they are of God, because many false prophets are in the world. _1 John 4:1._

Ron was careful, then, in his use of the gift.

What he saw was not, strictly speaking, Tara's _doppelgänger_, her ghostly double. It was an apparitional experience. He had had a _epiphaneia_, a manifestation. And not an epiphany, or theophany. in the sense of the appearance of an angel or Deity.

Ron booted up his giant virtual Book and checked for reference. There it was. The examples of others who had experienced waking visions and obtained insight.

_**Samuel**_

Kish…of the tribe of Benjamin, an important man, had a son, named Saul, a handsome man, a tall man. 

Kish's donkeys wandered off. And Kish said to Saul his son, Take one of the servants with you, and look for the donkeys.

They passed through many lands, and didn't find them. When they came to the land of Zuph, Saul said to his servant, "Let's go home, in case my father worries about us."

And the servant said to Saul, "Look, in this city is a man of God, an honorable man. All that he says happens. Let's go there. Perhaps he can show us the way to go." 

Before that time in Israel, when a man went to enquire of God, he would say ,"Let's visit the seer." (For Prophets used to be called Seers.) 

Then said Saul to his servant, "This sounds good. Let's go." So they went to the city where the man of God was.

Yahweh had told Samuel in his ear a day before Saul came, saying, "About this time tomorrow I will send you a man out of the land of Benjamin. Anoint him captain over My people Israel, that he may save them from Philistines. I have seen my people, and their cry has reached Me." And when Samuel saw Saul, Yahweh said to him, "This is the man I told you about. He shall reign over my people." 

Then Saul approached Samuel in the gate, and said, "Tell me, if you please, where the seer's house is."

And Samuel said, "I'm the seer. Stay for a meal. You can stop overnight at my place. Tomorrow, before you go, I'll tell you all that's in your heart. And as for your donkeys that were lost three days ago, don't worry about them. They've been found. Plus, you're the man all Israel wants." 

Saul was astonished…

Samuel took a vial of oil, poured it on Saul's head, and kissed him, and said, "Yahweh has ordained you to be captain over His inheritance." _1 Samuel 9:1-6,9-10,15-17,19-20, 10:1._

_**Elisha**_

Elijah the prophet had asked his apprentice Elisha what he might do for him before life's end.

Elijah said to Elisha, "Ask what I can do for you, before I'm taken from you."

And Elisha said, "I implore you, let a double portion of your spirit be bestowed on me."

And Elijah said, "You've asked a hard thing. But, if you see me when I'm taken from you, it'll happen to you. But if not, it won't."

And it happened, as they still went on and talked, that a chariot of fire appeared, and horses of fire. They were separated, and Elijah went up by a whirlwind into Heaven. 

And Elisha saw it, and he cried, "My father, my father, the chariots of Israel and their horsemen!" And he saw Elijah no more. _2 Kings 2:8-12._

So for the rest of his ministry...and his life...Elisha lived in a continual state of supernatural activity.

Ron, on the other hand, did not think of himself as a seer, or a prophet, as though it was his primary vocation. The visions came only occasionally.

An important general had come to the prophet Elisha to be healed of leprosy: Naaman the Syrian. He was, in fact, an enemy of Israel. But he was healed of his disease. He tried to reward Elisha; but the prophet refused it. But Gehazi, Elisha's servant, had other ideas.

But Gehazi the servant of Elisha the man of God, said, "My master has spared this Naaman. He let the Syrian get off easy, by not receiving the reward he brought. I swear to God, I'll run after him, and take the stuff instead." So Gehazi followed Naaman. 

And when Naaman saw someone running after him, he stepped off the chariot to meet him, and said, "Is everything okay?"

Gehazi said, "All is well. My master has sent me. Two young prophets have come from the hill-country of Ephraim . Give them, please, a talent of silver, and two sets of clothes."

And Naaman said, "Please, take two talents." He urged Gehazi, and gave two talents of silver in two bags, with two sets of clothes, and ordered two servants to carry the gifts

When Gehazi came to the hill, he took the gifts from the men, put them in the house. Then he let the men go, and they left. But he went in, and stood before his master. 

And Elisha said to him, "Where are you coming from, Gehazi?"

Gehazi said, "Your servant went nowhere."

Elisha said to him, "Wasn't my spirit with you, when Naaman stepped off his chariot to meet you? Is it a time to receive money, and garments, and vineyards, and sheep and oxen, and slaves?" _2 Kings 5:20-26._

Elisha rebuked his servant. And ironically, Gehazi himself became a leper.

Elisha knew the secret military plans of Ben-Haddad, Israel's enemy.

The king of Syria was at war against Israel. He met with his counselors and told them where to set up his camp. 

And the man of God sent a message to the king of Israel, telling him to avoid a certain place, because the Syrians were there. And the king of Israel sent word to the place he had been warned of, and saved himself many times.

The heart of the king of Syria was very anxious about this. He summoned his counselors. "Show me which of us is for the king of Israel."

And one of them said, "None of us, oh my lord king. But Elisha, the prophet in Israel, tells the king of Israel the words you speak in your bedchamber."

The king said, "Go and see where he is. I want him caught.". 

And it was told him. "Elisha is in Dothan."

So he sent there horses, chariots, and many men. They came by night and surrounded the city. 

When the servant of the man of God awoke early, and went out, he saw a host with horses and chariots encircling the city. And his servant said to him, "Alas, my master! What are we going to do?"

He answered, "Don't fear. Those who are with us are more than those who are with them." And Elisha prayed, saying, "Yahweh, I entreat You, open his eyes, that he may see."

And Yahweh opened the eyes of the young man, and he saw that the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire surrounding Elisha. _2 Kings 6:14-17._

There was even a time when the great enemy of the land sought out the seer's advice.

Elisha came to Damascus; and Benhadad the king of Syria was sick. It was told him, saying, "The man of God has come here."

And the king said to Hazael, "Take gifts and go meet the man of God. Inquire of Yahweh; will I recover from this sickness?"

So Hazael went to meet him, and took gifts of every good thing of Damascus, forty camels' burden, and came and stood before him, and said, "Your son Benhadad king of Syria has sent me to you, saying, 'Will I recover of this sickness?' "

Elisha said, "Go, say to him, 'You shall surely recover'...but Yahweh has shown me that he shall surely die. And he stared at Hazael until he wept.

Hazael was mortified and asked, "Why does my lord weep?" 

Elisha answered, "Because I know the evil that you will do to the children of Israel. You will set their strongholds on fire, and slay their young men with the sword. You will dash their infants to the ground and disembowel their pregnant women."

And Hazael said, "But what is your servant, who is but a dog, that he should do these great things?"

And Elisha answered, "Yahweh has showed me that you shall be king over Syria."

Then Hazael departed from Elisha, and came to his master; who said to him, "What did Elisha say to you?"

And he answered, "He told me that you would surely recover." But on the day after, Hazael took a cloth, dipped it in water, and spread it on his master's face, so that he died. And Hazael reigned in Benhadad's place_.__ 2 Kings 8:7-17._

Elisha looked into Hazael's heart and saw the ambition. He saw the seemingly humble palace chamberlain becoming a king...and ravaging Israel and her people far more cruelly that the previous Syrian king.

And Hazael saw this, not as a grievous thing, but a glorious thing.

_**Ezekiel**_

God showed Ezekiel a vision of Israel's renewal.

The Hand of Yahweh was on me. He brought me out in the Spirit of Yahweh, and set me down in the midst of the valley; and it was full of bones. And He caused me to pass by them round about: and there were very many in the open valley; and they were very dry. And He said to me, "Son of man, can these bones live?"

And I answered, "O Lord Yahweh, You know." 

Again He said to me, "Prophesy over these bones, and say to them, 'O you dry bones, hear the word of Yahweh. Thus says the Lord Yahweh to these bones: Behold, I will cause breath to enter into you, and you shall live. And I will lay sinews upon you, and will bring up flesh upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath in you, and you shall live; and you shall know that I am Yahweh. 

So I prophesied as I was commanded: and as I prophesied, there was a noise, and an earthquake; and the bones came together, bone to its bone. And I beheld, and there were sinews on them, and flesh came up, and skin covered them above; but there was no breath in them. 

Then He said to me, "Prophesy to the wind, prophesy, son of man, and say to the wind, 'Thus says the Lord Yahweh: Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe on these slain, that they may live'." 

So I prophesied as He commanded me, and the breath came into them, and they lived, and stood up on their feet, a very great army. 

Then He said to me, "Son of man, these bones are the whole house of Israel. They say, 'Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are completely cut off.' Therefore prophesy, and say to them, 'Thus says the Lord Yahweh: behold, I will open your graves, and cause you to come up out of your graves, O my people; and I will bring you into the land of Israel. And you shall know that I am Yahweh, when I have opened your graves, and caused you to come up out of your graves, O my people. And I will put my Spirit in you, and you shall live, and I will place you in your own land. And you shall know that I, Yahweh, have spoken it and performed it," says Yahweh_."__ Ezekiel 37:1-14._

In the vision, the prophet was commanded to do something...that he should in turn command dead bones to assemble, the decayed flesh to reform, and the breath of life to come from the for corners of the earth.

Ron's Aunt Kim was an Undead...a demonic thing. She had an equivalent evil power to do as had happened to the bodies of Ezekiel's vision...to reform her body. Still, this passage gave great encouragement to Ron. It was his hope to proclaim a restoring word to her. But he knew, if he were to announce that hope to his Uncle Lon, or Uncle Roy, Tara's two sons, they would've responded with doubt...and even hostility.

_**Jesus Christ**_

Even Christ Jesus, the Incarnate Son of the Father in Heaven, exercised an ability by the Holy Spirit to see and know both heavenly realities...

Jesus said to them, "I saw Satan fallen as lightning from heaven." _Luke 10:18._

...And earthly realities in the days of His mortality.

Jesus said to the woman, "Go bring your husband."

The woman said to him, "I don't have a husband." 

Jesus said to her, "Well said. You've had five husbands, and you're not married to the man you're with now. This is true."

The woman said to him, "Sir, I perceive you're a prophet." _John 4:16-19._

_**St. Paul**_

St. Paul the Apostle, in the first generation of the Church of Jesus Christ, described his experiences.

…I will come to visions and revelations of the Lord. I know a man in Christ, fourteen years ago (whether in or out of the body, I don't know; God does), he was caught up to the Third Heaven, to Paradise. He heard unspeakable words, which it is not lawful for a man to speak_. 2 Corinthians 12:1-2._

_**St. Paul and the mediumistic slave girl **_

Paul and his fellow Christians were in Greece, preaching the Gospel and making Christian converts.

We made a straight course…to Philippi, a city of Macedonia, the first of the district, a Roman colony: And on the Sabbath day we went outside the gate by the river, where we supposed there was a place of prayer; and we sat down, and spoke to the women that were come together. 

As we were going to the place of prayer, a certain maid having a spirit of divination met us. She brought her masters much wealth by soothsaying. She followed after Paul and us, saying, "These men are servants of the Most High God! They proclaim to you the way of salvation!" She did this for many days.

But Paul, being troubled, turned and said to the spirit, "I charge you in the name of Jesus Christ to come out of her!" And it came out that very hour. 

But when her masters saw that the hope of their wealth was gone, they laid hold on Paul and Silas, and dragged them into court_. Acts 16:11-19._

The world was full of clairvoyants for hire, then and now. It was nothing strange to see them on every street corner. But something about this girl bothered Paul's heart. Her ability was uncanny. And Paul's ability by divine grace to discern detected a counterfeit. So he exercised his apostolic authority and cast the demon out of the girl. Unfortunately, as so often happened to the Apostle Paul, his preaching and his miracles landed him in jail.

The world saw Tara René Stoppable as a vibrant widow, beloved neighbor, and kindly citizen.

Her departed husband and her sons thought this a façade. They saw her as a murderer, whose hands were red with Kim Possible's lifeblood, and one whose deed instigated a process that turned Kim into a gruesome and immortal homicidal maniac.

Her grandson's perception went deeper still. He saw a sweet and unspoilt young girl.

Ron had been given an insight into the heart of his Grandmother. He must think long and hard what it meant.

_**to be continued**_

Next chpt...back to our narrative.


	15. Chapter 15: I obtained mercy

I continue to include Biblical verse references in italics. They're not part of the narrative, per se. I'm not engaged in writing Christian tracts...at least not primarily. But since the story of Kim Possible is a story of good and evil...especially this one...I'd be lacking if I didn't include pertinent background material. Just to warn my readers...like my profile says...I'm a Born-Again Bible Thumper. Quotes by Sensei, Yori, and Kim are from the Gorilla Fist episode.

The teachings of the Buddha to his son Rahula are part of what are called the Four Immeasurables, and are taken from Old Path White Clouds by Thich Nhat Hahn.

_**A HEROINE'S LEGACY**_

_**chpt 15**_

_**I obtained mercy**_

Mari was asleep. Tara was asleep. Ron was awake. He went out to the gazebo and sat on the steps, gathering his thoughts.

He felt blest. Two of the women he felt the most empathy for were gathered under one roof: his girlfriend and his grandmother. Widen the radius a bit, and it would include his great-aunt; on a technicality, she was a part of the house; since the cistern was on the property. He was entrusted with all their well-being, according to the ethic of both chivalry and the Bushido, as both a knight and a samurai. His grandmother was his progenitor. His girlfriend was the daughter of his Sensei. As the _Hachisu Ky__ō__shi_...the Lotus Master, the Chosen of Yamanouchi, the Bearer of the Blade, he was charged with the keeping of she who was confined...the involuntary guest.

Ron meditated on the state of his grandmother's body, soul, and spirit.

Two evenings before, he had listened carefully to his grandmother's supplication before the fearsome goddess of death for the Stoppable children. Like his grandfather, she had offered her own life for theirs. And like his grandfather, her offer had been refused.

He had listened carefully as she related the tale of her gradually unfolding love for her future husband to Mari. It was not a scenario of conspiracy and intrigue. It was a deeply heartfelt tale of a young girl's budding love.

Ron had worked his way past his initial aversion of his grandmother's deed. His natural ninja training and spiritual discipline asserted itself. He reviewed the lessons and maxims of his Sensei and his Faith.

For man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart. _1 Samuel 16:6._

Judge not according to appearance, but judge righteous judgment. _John 7:24._

"Rahula, practice loving kindness to overcome anger. Loving kindness has the capacity to bring happiness to others without demanding anything in return.

"Practice compassion to overcome cruelty. Compassion has the capacity to remove the suffering of others without expecting anything in return.

"Practice sympathetic joy to overcome hatred. Sympathetic joy arises when one rejoices over the happiness of others and wishes others well-being and success." _The teachings of the Buddha to his son Rahula._

Men in general judge more from appearances than from reality. All men have eyes, but few have the gift of penetration. _Niccolo Machiavelli._

Love, magnanimity, affection for others, sympathy and pity, are traits of Benevolence, the highest attribute of the human soul. _Nitobe Inazo._

If you judge people, you have no time to love them. _Mother Teresa._

He looked beyond Tara King's evil deed to Tara Stoppable's loving heart...the heart he knew was still there.

In her own way, Tara King has been as much a Food Chain reject as Ron Stoppable. She was sweet and shy. She refused to use her family's wealth as an excuse to scorn fellow students of lesser social status and to court the acceptance of upperclassmen. She refused to use her beauty and her membership on the Cheer Squad as a way of scoring sexually. She had endured Bonnie Rockwaller's taunts. In her timid and shy way, she had even stood in the way of Bonnie's continual scheming to undermine Kim as captain of the Cheer Squad.

He guessed at the torment in her heart that Mariko's coming might cause...the association with past sadness. It rejoiced his heart that Mari had been so loving. Ron was, after all, the great-grandson of Anne Possible...the legendary Mrs. Dr. P. Her emotional sensitivity and ability to sense moods was almost uncanny.

He had hoped that Mari's coming might be the sign of a change in the family fortunes. But he sensed the strain on his grandmother's spirit. For sixty years she had withstood the guilt of her crime. For thirty years, she had mourned the death of her marital and domestic happiness. For five years, she had endured the yearly meeting with Kim Possible. The woman's fortitude was awe-inspiring. But she was coming to the end of her rope. The fright Suzie Sheldon had given her last night was evidence of that. Tara Stoppable lived under a strain that defied imagining. And her heart was beginning to crack. She was not long for this world.

And suddenly he realized what it meant...earlier in the evening...the Vision he had of his grandmother as a teenager

Ron called forth his _Mah__ō__ no saru no n__ō__ryoku…_hisMystical Monkey Power. He had found it could operate similar to electroreception. Aquatic species like sharks, lampreys, rays, and sturgeons were able to detect bioelectric fields, electric current generated by living tissue.

He put his hand on the floor of the gazebo and just slightly allowed his ninja trained awareness to reach into the cistern. He felt the rage and fury. She who was there...the Prisoner...moved ceaselessly, like a caged tiger. A thrill of horror shot through him like an electrical tingle. He had listened to the conversation between Kim and his grandmother. He had heard Kim's own voice...but still...to accept the existence of such a Creature as real was almost beyond comprehension.

He withdrew his awareness. If what he had heard was true, then a mystical bond had existed between Kim Possible and her Beloved...his grandfather. She might be able to sense him...the new Lotus Master of Yamanouchi...and he was not yet ready for that kind of confrontation.

He took a long breath and contemplated anew. He touched his Ronnunicator. He let replay the streaming video from Kimpossible-dot-com that had caused him to make this resolution.

AGENT FOR CHANGE TO SAVE THE WORLD

And he let the words and stories of Holy Scripture replay in his mind.

David the king had arranged the murder of a man...Uriah, a captain of his army...so he could have the man's wife, Bathsheba. Yet the Lord removed his sin from him. _1 Samuel 12:13._

Judas Iscariot, in the very Garden of Gethsemane, at the very moment of betraying Jesus the Christ, was called _"Friend" _by his Lord. Stricken with remorse, he thought better of his crime. He sought to redress his deed...but without success. He flung the thirty pieces of silver at the feet of the priests...and then went out and hanged himself. _Matthew 26, 27._

If he could have lived...if he could have heard the words of his Master_..."Father, forgive them! They don't know what they're doing!"..._if he could have seen the Savior after His Resurrection...if he could have stood before the Redeemer with St. Peter, who was guilty of denying and cursing the Lord...could he not have lived? Would there now a St. Judas, along with St. Peter, and St. Paul, and St. Matthew?

St. Paul wrote eloquently. This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am foremost. _1 Timothy 1:15. _

This was the dogmatic Pharisee, who, before his own conversion, threatened the Christian disciples with slaughter. _Acts 9:1. _He was candid in his admission of his use of deadly violence. …And I persecuted the followers of this Belief to death, capturing and imprisoning both men and women. _Acts 22:4. _I used to be a blasphemer, and a persecutor. I injured many. But I obtained mercy. _1Timothy 1:13._

As the great-grandson of James Timothy Possible, Ron was blessed with a logical cast of mind. If Kim Possible was the advocate of the philosophy of saving people and helping people...and if she herself was to be rescued, evil as she was...having renounced everything that was good...then it must follow that his grandmother must also partake of the benefit.

As the Sensei Yoriko and her predecessor had once said..."A weed that never grows does not need to be cut down. Even thought the villain is bad, he has not done us wrong this day." As Kim herself had once said..."Rescuing the bad guy...it's the right thing to do." Perpetrator and victim...both must have an equal opportunity of redemption.

It was consistent with both Kim's heroine ethos and St. Paul's Christian ethos. No other course of action was conceivable. It was as irrefutable as the logic of Aristotle and Thomas Aquinas.

Ron Possible decided...with the same force of resolve that he decided to rescue Kim Possible while he was in the hospital chapel. If David and St. Paul could obtain mercy...if even Judas had been offered mercy...if himself, Ronald Zimmer Possible, a fallen human, could obtain mercy...then, somehow...God willing...Tara Stoppable must also obtain mercy.

_**to be continued**_

A / N

I know the fans have been clamoring for Tara's punishment. And in a way, that's what she's getting. But the direction I find the story going…well, y'all will get the idea.


	16. Chapter 16: All Saints' Day

Author's advisory. If I ever wrote a disturbing chpt, this would be it. It takes a similar tack to my story A Big Hand For The Little Lady.

People ask, where do I get my stuff? It's like this. Artists draw from real life. They study their subject matter. Norman Rockwell once did a self-portrait of himself painting with a mirror next to his easel, to look at himself, to capture facial expressions. Illustrators and cartoonists do the same thing, I'm told.

Have you ever seen a kid have an extreme tantrum? It's very educational. They throw themselves against the wall and on the floor. There are stories of Adolph Hitler's legendary rants and rages. Ivan the Terrible, Tsar of Russia, would lose his temper, then prostrate himself before the holy Icons, striking his forehead on the floor until he bled. I'm told he killed his son with a single blow during one of his rages. Your humble author once broke his hand smacking his fist against the floor over some frustration.

Some of my fellow bloggers at another site are very candid about their self-cutting. I dig. My heart goes out to them. And my heart goes out to you, if any of y'all are trapped by this pernicious behavior.

So…where do I get my stuff? From people. From myself. If we let ourselves, we can sink to some pretty dark depths. God have mercy on all the sons and daughters of men, is my fervent prayer.

_**A HEROINE'S LEGACY**_

_**chpt.16**_

_**All Saints' Day in the world below**_

And so, for the people in the world above, another All Saint's Day came to an end. The first day of November, when the Church, since almost its earliest days, celebrated those who had died in the Lord, and ascended to be with Him, the Savior, Who had secured their salvation with His own Life's Blood

It was the day after All Soul's Eve...or All Hallow's Eve...the Celtic Samhain...when the boundary between the worlds of the living and the dead grew thin.

And what of that person in the world below? Following her brief escape a generation earlier, Kim Possible was interred back into her prison. For a decade and a half, Ron Stoppable came to her each year on All Souls' Eve. He tried to placate her. He tried to recall to her the years of their childhood, trick-or-treating together. He tried to persuade her to forswear her oath to wipe out his entire family. He tried to express his love. Then came a twenty year hiatus after his death. And after that, Tara Stoppable broke the silence. Had Kim forgiven? Had she forgotten? Kim had gladly cured Tara of any lingering delusions...in her own nightmarish manner.

Kim had her yearly conversation. She screamed and howled and shrieked like a multitude of innumerable specters. Or she wailed like a wraith in a moaning voice that seemed to emanate from every corner of the pump room. She reaffirmed her hatred of everyone and everything, and renewed her promise to slaughter the family of Tara René Stoppable. It was Kim's big night, after all...her one annual chance to get at the source of her torment and misery.

And following her yearly conversation, she had her yearly ritual. All too soon the forlorn sense of desolation loomed overwhelmingly. First she brooded. Then she beat and kicked against the cement walls of her prison and against the steel pipe that was the conduit of her conversation, fracturing her hands and feet, and her arms and legs. After that she grew more frenzied, flinging herself bodily against the walls, splintering her pelvis, her vertebrae, her ribs, collar bone, and skull.

Flopping limply on the floor like a dying fish snatched from water, she descended further into the fury. She ripped her legs off and hurled them at the barrier. Then her left arm. At last, in her extremity, with her remaining hand, she broke her skull into fragments...her jaw, her cheekbones, her orbital bones, finally snapping off the skull at the neck and heaving the gruesome missiles at the unmoving obstruction. And the headless torso twitched convulsively while the remaining arm clutched spastically at the empty air.

To no avail. Like a hellish jigsaw puzzle, the fragments gathered together and recombined.

And like every other year, Kim would rail and blaspheme her former lover Ron, his wife Tara, the Stoppable and Possible families, her old friends, and finally God Himself and the Heavenly Host...screaming, demanding, and finally sobbing,

"…Please..."

...Whimpering,

"...Oh, God, please..."

...And pleading...

"...I'm begging You...let me die…"

_**to be continued**_

So concludes the Halloween series, which enlarges upon Ron Possible's first experience with his Undead Aunt Kim...unless the Plot Bunny hops on my chest and wiggles its whiskers. But the Mariko and Yamanouchi plotlines will continue.


	17. Chapter 17

A transition. In music, it's called a segue. We'll see in a chpt. or two what it's about.

_**A HEROINE'S LEGACY**_

_**the changing of the guard**_

After Ronald Eugene Stoppable, the keeper of the Lotus Blade and the Ultimate Monkey Mastery was his son, Alonzo Titus Stoppable. And after him was Ron's younger son, Elroy Eustace Stoppable. And after him was the son of Ron's daughter, Kimberly Ann Stoppable.

Elroy stood before Sensei Yoriko Kansumi-sama near the end of his tenure.

"You have served well in the capacity of _Hachisu Ky__ō__shi, _Elroy-san. You have stood in the gap that resulted when your mother destroyed destiny's fabric. You have no need to feel ashamed."

"But…Kansumi-sama…my Sensei. I **do **feel ashamed. I never took a wife. I never even bothered to search. I was determined that no child of mine should suffer what my brother and I suffered…to be fated to be the guard of Kim Possible. And now I realize how selfish I was. My brother found a woman willing to share that fate. Lorrie Mankey-san consented to marry Lon and bear his children…knowing that one of them might have to face the Creature. And now my sister's son is condemned to the fate that should be mine.

Say not 'condemned'. For karma is karma. Rather say, 'ordained'. You know of how deeply I loved your father from the first moment I beheld him."

"Yes, Sensei."

"I had hoped it to be his wife…even after the disappearance of Kimberly Possible-san. I would have been deeply honored to have you as a son. But that was not my karma. I was ready to relegate myself to lifelong spinsterhood. But your father, on his deathbed, prevailed upon me to marry and bear children. Such love he had for you."

Both sensei and student became teary-eyed.

"Yes, Sensei."

"Tell me, Elroy-san…what was the byword of Kim Possible-san in the days of her humanity? Before the fearful change?"

"Um…let me recall…she used to say, 'I can do anything.' "

"Even so. I once told her that I felt Stoppable-san was her destiny. The designs of Heaven are not thwarted. A union of the lineage of Stoppable and the lineage of Possible has taken place. And a child of that union will become the _Yamauchi no eraba reta. _The Chosen of Yamanouchi. His will be a strong karma. He will not be as other men. He will do great deeds. He will surpass you and your brother and your father. He will surpass me. He will be the equal of Kimberly Possible-san. As it was my honor to teach your brother and you, it will be my honor to teach him. And until it becomes his honor to stand and fulfill his destiny, tt will be your honor to maintain the lonely vigil. Do you understand, my Elroy-san?"

"Yes, my Sensei."


	18. Chapter 18 a tale of years

We're taking a brief break. I've been jumping around so much, I thought this might help the reader.

This timeline is derived from captainkodak 1's A Box Of Cuddlebuddies, daccu65's Family Legacy, and my Heroine's Legacy stories. There's the date, the event, and the story / chpt that refers to the event.

Some notes. Cap's original story; when did it take place? It mentioned Tara and Josh Mankey's breakup, which took place (I think) in junior year. But it mentions Kim's car, which she acquired senior year. And it mentions swimming in Lake Middleton, which I reckon took place in the summer. I place cap's story immediately following the Graduation episode. Factoring in a 2007 graduation date yields a 1989 birth date.

This is only a first draft. Some of the dates haven't been formulated yet. There's also a genealogy chart in the works.

_**HEROINE'S LEGACY**_

_**chpt 18**_

_**a tale of years**_

1989: Kimberly Ann Possible, Ronald Eugene Stoppable, and Tara René King are born.

June 2007: Graduation.

June 2007: Kim Possible disappears. _A Box Of Cuddlebuddies_

2012: Tara King & Ron Stoppable marry. _A Box Of Cuddlebuddies_

2014: Alonzo Titus (Lon) Stoppable is born. _Family Legacy _

2017: Elroy Eustace (Roy) Stoppable is born. _Family Legacy _

2021: Kimberly Ann (Kim) Stoppable is born. _Family Legacy _

Halloween 2030: Kim Possible escapes and tries to kill Tara and Lon. Ron defeats imprisons her again. Lon and Ron go to Yamanouchi. _Family Legacy_, _A Heroine's Legacy, A Barrier That Restrains_

Halloween 2031: Ron goes to the pump room to talk to Kim. _Family Legacy_, _A Big Hand For The Little Lady_, chpt 2

Summer 2046: Kim Stoppable and Ron Possible marry. _A Heroine's Legacy_, chpt 11

Halloween 2046: Ron's last talk with Kim.

November 2046: Yori comes to visit Ron. Ron dies. Roy Stoppable attends Yamanouchi. Yori marries Hirotaka. _A Heroine's Legacy_, chpt 4

2047: Ronald Zimmer Possible born.

Halloween 2065: Tara goes to the pump room to talk to Kim. Ronald Zimmer Possible begins attending Yamanouchi and meets Mariko Kansumi, Yori and Hirotaka's daughter. _A Heroine's Legacy_, chpt

Halloween 2070: Ronald Zimmer Possible comes home from Yamanouchi, learns the secret of the family legacy, and listens in on Tara's conversation with Kim Possible. Suzy Sheldon accidentally scares Tara with her Kim Possible costume. _Family Legacy_, _A Heroine's Legacy_, chpt 3

November 2070: Mariko Kansumi comes to Middleton and becomes Tara and Ron's guest. _A Heroine's Legacy_, chpt 17

Halloween 2071: Ron Possible's first conversation with Kim Possible. _A Heroine's Legacy, Conversations From The Pit Of Hell_, _A Heroine's Legacy_, chpt 1

Next chpt, back to the narrative.


	19. Chapter 19 encouraging word, family meal

Randy gets literary again. He cites Dante, Cervantes, and Dumas. You'll get the drift.

I've fallen behind on answering reviews. Alas. I eat, sleep, go to work, write my tales, and talk to my kids. It's a very rudimentary life.

Let me say this: Whitem, you intrigue me. I encourage you to share your surmises, either by review or PM. Your past suggestions have yielded rich storyline developments. As to what afflicts Kim, I will affirm: yes to everything. She is fallen from Grace, and every single thing that state entails.

C.S. Lewis in Mere Christianity speaks of the deplorable state of human nature: creatures like us who actually find hatred such a pleasure that to give it up is like giving up beer or tobacco. ...

Think of someone with a typical addictive problem, whether that addiction is substance or behavior. The person makes desperate promises and resolutions to mend their ways when cornered, and then falls off the wagon completely when the pressure is off.

Kim desires to do whatever she can do to alleviate her suffering or assuage her hurt pride. If that means departure from her physical body, so be it. If that means indulging her resentments and killing everyone she can get to, so be it. It's kinda like the Calvinistic doctrine of Ultimate Depravity. Apart from Heaven's gracious restraints, there is no conceivable deed or depth a person cannot sink to.

And pride is what it's all about. Kim is very much a little Lucifer in this instance.

Again citing Lewis' Mere Christianity, under the section entitled The Great Sin:

Today I come to that part of Christian morals where they differ most sharply from all other morals. There is one vice of which no man in the world is free; which every one in the world loathes when he sees it in someone else; and of which hardly any people, except Christians, ever imagine that they are guilty themselves.

I have heard people admit that they are bad-tempered, or that they cannot keep their heads about girls or drink, or even that they are cowards. I do not think I have ever heard anyone who was not a Christian accuse himself of this vice. And at the same time I have very seldom met anyone, who was not a Christian, who showed the slightest mercy to it in others. There is no fault which makes a man more unpopular, and no fault which We are more unconscious of in ourselves. And the more we have it ourselves, the more we dislike it in others.

The vice I am talking of is Pride or Self-Conceit: and the virtue opposite to it, in Christian morals, is called Humility. You may remember, when I was talking about sexual morality, I warned you that the centre of Christian morals did not lie there. Well, now, we have come to the centre. According to Christian teachers, the essential vice, the utmost evil, is Pride. Unchastity, anger, greed, drunkenness, and all that, are mere flea bites in comparison: it was through Pride that the devil became the devil: Pride leads to every other vice: it is the complete anti-God state of mind.

In Christopher Marlowe's Dr. Faustus, (cited in chpt 10 of this story) the protagonist is portrayed as wavering between remorse and impenitence…one moment regretting his fall to Mephistopheles, the next moment exalting in his satanically-endowed magical powers…until the demons finally take him away.

Again, citing Lewis: If you mistake for your own merits what are really God's gifts to you through nature, and if you are contented with simply being nice, you are still a rebel: and all those gifts will only make your fall more terrible, your corruption more complicated, your bad example more disastrous. The Devil was an archangel once; his natural gifts were as far above yours as yours are above those of a chimpanzee.

Pride. It's the sin of Drakken, DNAmy, and Monkey Fist. It's what makes Zorpox the Conquerer more formidable than Ron Stoppable the Sidekick. It's what makes James Timothy Possible's naïve assertion "Anything possible for a Possible" so double-edged. That superlative ability can be turned to wickedness just as easily as righteousness.

And there's another topic I've beaten into the ground.

I know that's a rather pessimistic outlook of human nature. But I believe implicitly in the redemption of even the most depraved. I've taken a peek at what's inside me. Some of that ain't too pretty.

I've become enamored with the writings of Dante Alighieri of late, as you can tell. I quote from the original La Vita Nuova. Do I know Italian? Hardly. There are a couple English translations floating around online. As I usually say: consult Wikipedia.

_**from chpt 10**_

_**Five years previous…at Mt. Yamanouchi.**_

Mariko Kansumi and Ron Possible had trekked the steep path up Mount Yamanouchi. They were about to proceed…

…But his attention was diverted. There was a sense of déjà vu. He stared long and intently at the spot where his grandfather Ron and his great-aunt Hana splashed in the mountain stream more than sixty years ago. Ron Stoppable was still in high school. Hana was less than a year old. They were on the verge of meeting Monkey Fist and Yono. He knew the story well. He could almost envision them…

…Chills went up and down his spine at what he saw-himself seated at the edge of the stream-in a classic Team Possible mission suit.

_A little toddler…a girl…practically an infant…with eyes black and glittering as obsidian. And hair jet black with silken sheen._

_The other Ron tickled the toddler. "Who's a boo-bah?"_

"_Boo-bah!" The little girl giggled. And she held up a hand with her pinkie finger extended. She playfully pushed away the other Ron's hand. "Page," she said._

Ron Possible stared in disbelief. The scene was clear as a holographic audio-video-or real-life. _This was Grandpa! And Aunt Hana! On the fateful day-practically the very hour of the confrontation with Yono the Destroyer. _

Monty Fiske had made a Faustian bargain with the Mephistophelean being, Yono. He had signed away his soul to gain power. And he had suffered a horrendous fate.

The scene shifted…

_It was still the same big-eared freckle-faced blonde-haired boy. But the girl had green eyes like new grass in the spring, and hair as red as a maple tree in the fall. She was noticeably older than the vision of Hana Possible-but not yet an adolescent. He couldn't tell. Was she five? Six? Eight? Wearing pigtails? A ponytail?_

_The boy scooped her up in his arms and twirled her about. "Aunt Kim-you're free!"_

_The girl yelped. "Ron! Be careful!" Did she have freckles? Was that a flash of braces on her teeth as she smiled?_

_They both laughed with supreme joy._

And the vision faded.

Ron was stunned. Kim Possible? As a young preadolescent girl? Ron Stoppable calling her "Aunt Kim"? What did it mean?

_**A HEROINE'S LEGACY **_

_**chpt 19**_

_**an encouraging word and a family meal**_

It was the wee hours of the morning of the second of November, 2070. Ronald Zimmer Possible sat on the railing of the under the roof of the gazebo his grandfather and uncles had erected forty years before. He folded his arms against the chill of the autumn air and contemplated the night sky.

He reviewed the preceding two days. He had come home to Middleton, Colorado, from the Yamanouchi School for the Ninja Arts, atop Mt. Yamanouchi, Japan. He was ready to step into the shoes of what might be his lifelong position, as the _Hachisu no ha no unpan-jin…_the Bearer of the Lotus Blade.

His sensei, the headmaster of the school, Yoriko Kansumi-sama, had told him he was destined for a significant task. He thought he would settle some affairs back home, and then take up the role of a perpetual wandering warrior, with the girl he loved, Mariko Kansumi, the sensei's daughter, as his mission partner…just like his hero, his grandfather, Ronald Eugene Stoppable, had done, ever so briefly…until the death of the girl **he **loved, Kim Possible. Grandpa Ron had gone on to marry another childhood sweetheart, Tara René King, put the missions aside, and raise a family.

And then Ron Possible learned the dreadful tale from his remorse-stricken grandmother. More than sixty years before, she had buried Kim Possible alive in the backyard cistern. Out of jealousy…out of a fear that Kim would break Ron Stoppable's heart. And somehow…the buried heroine hadn't died. Her body had decayed, in the natural manner…but it still moved.

The two boys, Lon and Roy, had cracked the seal on the cistern twenty years later, on a Halloween, ironically, thinking they had heard a noise. Kim had escaped, thinking she had been buried only a matter of hours or days.

A trip to her former homestead and a glance in a mirror had shown her the truth. And the sight had driven her insane. In reprisal, she had tried to kill

Tara and Lon. Ron Stoppable had barely defeated her, and reimprisoned her in the cistern.

This, then was the task for which Ronald Zimmer Possible had been trained and outfitted; to stand perpetual guard over the Undead Kim Possible. This was the reason for the aversion Tara's sons, Lon and Roy, held her in. Doubtless this was the reason for Grandpa Ron Stoppable's untimely demise, long before Ron Possible was even born.

Ron listened in on a conversation between Kim and Tara, via a length of pipe that ran from the cistern to an old pump room in the basement. It was a custom established by Grandpa Ron Stoppable; a yearly dialogue between captive and captor. The captor would offer to themself to the captive to be killed, in return for sparing the children. And the captive would refuse the offer and renew the threat to kill off the entire family, in hideous screams and vivid gruesome detail.

The evening was capped off by a visit from a final trick-or-treater; a neighbor girl, Suzie Sheldon. Dressed in a black cotton turtleneck sweater, khaki cargo pants, an ammo clip belt, a pair of cuffed leather gloves, and a red wig; as her heroine, Kim Possible.

Tara had screamed in terror and fainted dead away. Suzie was distraught. Ron had comforted Suzie and taken Tara to the hospital, where she had remained overnight for observation. And it was in the hospital chapel that Ron came to a momentous decision.

Ronald Zimmer Possible was, in many ways, an anachronism. Like elderly cousin Larry Rivederci, he was enamored with fantasy and myth. Like Don Quixote, he was steeped in tales of chivalry. Unlike either Larry or Quixote, Ron had extensive warrior prowess. He could speak, think, and live like one archaic.

It was requisite for a knight to have a noble Lady to revere…someone to inspire him…someone to dedicate all his deeds of chivalry.

Miguel de Cervantes, Quixote's creator, observed tongue-in-cheek: So then, his armour being furbished, his morion turned into a helmet, his hack christened, and he himself confirmed, he came to the conclusion that nothing more was needed now but to look out for a lady to be in love with; for a knight-errant without love was like a tree without leaves or fruit, or a body without a soul. 

As Quixote loved and adored the imaginary Lady Dulcinea…as Dante Alighieri, Italian Renaissance poet and author of the Divina Commedia…_Divine Comedy_ loved and adored his glorified Beatrice…so Ron revered Kim Possible.

It was a secret Ron had shared with few people. His mother was a fervent fan-girl of the historical Heroine.

He jealously guarded his passion. He had learned early on that courtly love was not a common concept anymore. He learned that people deliberately misunderstood. People could be cruel, especially if the Heroine he revered had the same name as his mother. It gave rise to suggestions of a crude and explicit nature. And his love was a holy love…a purifying love.

The courtly love of Dante for Beatrice Portinari was not the customary courtly love of others.

In the epic story arc of Camelot, Guinevere the queen was the spouse of Arthur the king…and the paramour of her protector, Lancelot, first knight of the realm. The adulterous affair undid Arthur's reign, and destroyed all that Arthur had struggled to achieve.

In Alexandre Dumas' The Three Musketeers, d'Artagnan's lover, Constance Bonacieux, was married to his landlord.

Dante and Beatrice were also married to others. But Dante kept his love undivulged…and idealized. They met when he was nine years old and she eight…long before either was betrothed. She died when she was only twenty-four. In his epic poem Divine Comedy, the ascended soul of Beatrice was Dante's guide during his journey in Heaven.

Ron loved what Dante wrote of her in the original Italian, and recited it often to himself.

…a li miei occhi apparve prima la gloriosa donna de la mia mente, la quale fu chiamata da molti Beatrice, li quali non sapeano che sichiamare…_my mind's glorious lady first appeared to my eyes, she who was called by many Beatrice 'she who confers blessing' by those who did not know what it meant to so name her_.

…quella gentilissima, la quale fue distruggitrice di tutti li vizi e regina de le virtudi_…that most gentle lady, who was the destroyer of all the vices and the queen of the virtues…_

Kim was the personification of everything Ron admired. A fellow warrior as well as a revered queenly Lady. And here she was. Still alive. Trapped in a cursed existence.

Something happened in his knight's heart. Before his eyes, in the Team Possible archives, was recounted all the occasions Kim was captured. A fire was kindled. A holy indignation. It was not fitting that a Heroine should be imprisoned. It was indecent that a holy maiden should be subject to evil whims, a damsel in distress, a conqueror's plaything, a supervillain's consolation prize.

He pledged a holy vow. He would do more than guard her. He would be her champion. Her fiery tresses would be his banner. Her bejeweled eyes would be his treasure. The ground of her imprisonment would be his shrine. He would, somehow, God permitting, free her.

There was no other way for one of Ron's outlook to respond. In the name of all holiness and decency, he would wage war. He would make Kim's soul his prize of battle. He would see her free and unfettered…or perish in the attempt.

Having made the resolve, he made preparations. He asked his good friend

Wilmont Load to prepare a giant electronic text; a compendium the sacred and mystical texts of history. He would study to try and determine the cause of Kim's curse, and how to free her from it. It happened to include the Divine Comedy.

The next day was filled with activity. While Tara convalesced at home, Ron started to acclimate himself to his new post. There were, in addition, two visitors; Suzie, who promptly became Ron's devotee, and Mariko, who promptly became Tara and Ron's long-term guest.

During the course of the evening, Ron had an experience. For lack of a better term, it was a waking vision. His grandmother suddenly took on the appearance she had when she was a teenager…before she committed her awful crime.

He contemplated it in the gazebo. And he remembered another vision he had…five years before…

_It was still the same big-eared freckle-faced blonde-haired boy. But the girl had green eyes like new grass in the spring, and hair as red as a maple tree in the fall. She was noticeably older than the vision of Hana Possible-but not yet an adolescent. He couldn't tell. Was she five? Six? Eight? Wearing pigtails? A ponytail?_

_The boy scooped her up in his arms and twirled her about. "Aunt Kim…you're free!"_

_The girl yelped. "Ron! Be careful!" Did she have freckles? Was that a flash of braces on her teeth as she smiled?_

_They both laughed with supreme joy._

On the eve of his enrollment at Yamanouchi, Ronald Zimmer Possible had been at the very spot where Grandpa Ronald Eugene Stoppable and Aunt Hana had played in the stream, before the cataclysmic battle with Monkey Fist and Yono.

It nagged Ron for as long as he could remember…what the vision meant.

On a whim, he consulted his Ronnunicator. A holographic slide show was activated. It was a series of images of someone from toddlerhood to adolescence: Kim Possible.

With a shock, Ron realized who the people in the vision were. _The boy wasn't his grandfather; it was himself. The girl was Kim Possible, portrayed as she was in the time of her life between the Pre-K years and the junior high school years, as his Grandmother Tara had been portrayed as a teenager in the other vision._

Divine Providence had granted Ron Possible a glimpse of the future…himself and his Aunt Kim as she would one day be…restored…healed and in her right mind. With a sob, he fell to his knees, and then his face, on the floor of the gazebo, murmuring prayers of praise and gratitude. On the dark trail of his Quest, a little light had been shed, a Word of encouragement had been spoken to his heart.

A glorious sunrise found Ron still in the gazebo. A part of him reflected, rather whimsically, if he was going to be the sentinel of the Undead Creature, he would, sooner or later, have to get a decent night's sleep. And yet another part felt as refreshed and invigorated as if he had slumbered for days.

Unknown to him, he was being watched from the kitchen window.

Mariko came into the kitchen, yawning and brushing her remarkable tresses back from her face. Tara was already there. "Oh! Mrs. Stoppable! Good morning!"

Tara turned from her gaze of her grandson. "Good morning, Mariko. I hope you slept well."

"Like a log! It must be the jet lag."

"I've made some coffee. Would you like a cup?"

"Yes, please. That sounds great."

"How do you take it?"

"Just black, thank you."

Tara poured a cup, and both women sat at the table. "I didn't sleep very well," she said. "Maybe it's because Ronnie's home, and my grandmotherly concern has taken effect."

Mari looked concerned. "Oh, dear. I hope it isn't because a stranger is in the house."

Tara shook her head. "Not at all, dear. You're as welcome here as if you were my own. Last night was the most fun I've had in years."

"Thank you, Mrs. Stoppable. I had a wonderful time, too."

Tara decided to be candid. "You're in love with him, aren't you?"

Mariko smiled shyly and blushed. "I guess it shows. Yes. Completely. Your grandson has a way with old-fashioned words. He would call it 'smitten'."

Tara smiled rather sadly. "Yes. I can empathize. My Ronnie and I were just like you and your Ronnie. And…not to pry…but have you two any…plans?"

She shook her head. "Not plans. Just fond hopes. He means the world to me, Mrs. Stoppable."

Tara saw that her first impression of Mariko was not incorrect. The girl was completely artless. _Was I really like this, once upon a time? Bonnie Rockwaller and the Food Chain would've eaten this girl alive. Might it really work between her and Ronnie? Like it worked out between Lorrie and Lonnie?_

They were talking some more as Ron came in. "Well…good morning, ladies. I thought I was the only one up before the crack of dawn." He greeted each with a kiss.

"You're grandma's been telling me more stories," jibed Mari.

Ron regarded them both warily. "Like…what kind of stories?"

She winked. "Like the time you and your cousin Carl destroyed her prize tulip bulbs, looking for the tulip seeds."

Ron shook his head and the women laughed. "Grandma…for the rest of my life, I will be so sorry for that."

Ron and Lon's son Carl were curious as to the composition of a tulip bulb. So they took the bulbs apart, flake by flake; and were left with a great pile of flakes and Grandma's dismay. _"You boys…! What have you…why did you…? …My bulbs!"_

He started to ask what they wanted for breakfast…and they heard a car pulling up into the driveway. Tara and Ron both went to the door to see who it was…

"Mom!" shouted Ron in delight. He flew out the door.

"Ronnie!" yelped the woman. She flew into his arms. It was Tara's daughter, Kimberly Ann Possible née Stoppable. She had her father's sandy hair, freckles, and brown eyes…but her mother's ears, fortunately. They hugged each other enthusiastically, and she began bawling. "Oh, Ronnie…it seems like forever…I've missed you…"

"I'm back, Mom," he said reassuringly. "I'm here to stay."

With Kim was her older brother, Elroy Eugene Stoppable, and her nephew, Carl Regis Stoppable, Lon's son.

Roy had the appearance of his paternal great-grandmother, Rachel Stoppable. He was tall, with a thin severe face.

Carl had the look of his paternal grandfather, Abel Stoppable. He was more heavily built, with a jolly face. He had the ginger hair of his grandmother Liz Claremont, Tara's fellow Cheer Squad member, somewhat muted by the Mankey and Stoppable brown shades.

They all crowded around the returning prodigal. "Ron, you sonuvagun! Welcome home!"

Tara went out and embraced Carl. "Carl! It's good to see you."

He returned the embrace affectionately. "You, too, Grandma."

Roy grasped his mother's hand rather distantly. "Hi, Mom. I'm glad you're okay."

Carl and Ron clasped hands and embraced.

"Hey! Cuz! You're home from ninja class! Any new tricks you can show me?"

"Lots of 'em, cuz! Lot's of 'em!"

It was Kim's turn to attend to her mother. "Mom! What's going on? You were in the **hospital** overnight?"

Tara dismissed her concerns with a wave of her hand. "Oh, bother! The excitement of Ronnie being home just got to me. I felt a little faint. Nothing big."

And Carl noticed Mari. "Whoa…" was all he could say.

And so did Kim and Roy.

They were dumbstruck. Even in her old bedroom robe, with unbrushed hair.

Mari was spectacularly beautiful. Her smile was dazzling.

She bowed before Roy. "Elroy-san. It is my honor to see you again after so long a time."

Roy took a while finding his voice. "Mariko-kun? Is…is it really you?" He had last seen the daughter of his Sensei when she was a teenager. She was stunning even then. But now…he would not have believed it had he not seen it.

Ron hastily spoke. "Oops. There I go with the typical American inattentiveness. Mom…Uncle Roy…Carl…may I present Mariko Kansumi. Mari…this is my mom, Uncle Roy, and cousin Carl. You and Uncle Roy know each other."

Mari warmly took Carl's, and then Roy's hand. And she warmly embraced Kim. "It's such a pleasure to finally meet you. I feel like I know each of you personally." She took her place beside Ron and put her arm through his.

Kim's eyes went from her son's face to the new girl's face. "Well, well." She beamed. "Well, well, well. Mariko Kansumi, eh? You and Ronnie, eh? I'm **very** happy to meet you!"

Ron smiled rather uncomfortably. "Mom! We're dating…that's all."

Kim frowned. "Ronnie! Have I even **suggested** it's anything more than that?"

"We were just having coffee," said Tara. "Why don't we all go in and have some breakfast?"

That was all it took. Kim took charge at once. "Roy! Ronnie! Carl! C'mon! You three can help me with breakfast."

Kim had inherited Ron Stoppable's mad culinary abilities. She had grown up in this kitchen. She had taken over management of the family business, Kosher Katering. She would give this crowd a proper breakfast. She would make the girl her son was just "dating" feel welcome. She got out skillets, bowls, and spoons. "Mom! Your shelves are practically empty!"

"I know, Kimmie," said Tara. I figured I'd go pick up some groceries today."

"Mom! That's so out-of-date! They deliver!"

"I know. But I prefer to be a discriminating shopper when it comes to foodstuff. It's something I got from your father."

This was something the daughter of a culinary professional could appreciate. "This is a chore my son and I can do…after I've fed my family and our guest a decent mea!"

Ron nudged Mari. "Congratulations. You've been adopted."

Mariko smiled. "I don't mind at all." She was Yori and Hirotaka's only child, but had grown up surrounded by the Yamanouchi students. She was used to lots of people. But there was something very warm and inviting about being included in this family circle.

And Kim nudged Ron. "Besides…Mother wants to monopolize her boy's time this morning…if his grandmother and the girl he's dating doesn't mind."

There were no objections from Tara or Mariko.

Carl and Ron spoke briefly.

"So…how's Aunt Lorrie and Uncle Lon?"

"The folks are great." Carl's mother Lorrie was the daughter of Liz and Josh Mankey. "Hey! Dude! Can I say it? You're girlfriend is gorgeous!"

"Thanks. She's also spoken for."

"Hey! You know me! I always respect my cousin's books, philosophical views, and girlfriends."

It was a breakfast buffet. Pancakes, bacon and eggs, toast, fruit crepes, and hot oatmeal. Mariko had seconds. Carl, Roy, and Ron had thirds.

While Kim and Carl cleared away breakfast, Ron showered and dressed, and Roy visited with Mariko. They fell into an accustomed style of conversation.

"I'm honored to see you, Mariko-san. I hope Kansumi-sama and Abé-sama are well."

"Very well, thank you, Elroy-san. It's my honor to be a guest of your esteemed mother."

While the conversation buzzed in the kitchen, Roy finally cornered Ron as he was dressing. "Ronnie…I've been meaning to ask…how's everything at Yamanouchi?"

"Sensei and Abé-sama are in excellent health. Both can still hold their own in a match. I almost think they'll still be teaching ninjitsu arts when they're a hundred."

"Did your grandmother tell you…"

"…About the family legacy? Yes."

Roy scowled fiercely. "I'm so sorry, Ronnie! I wouldn't foist this burden on another human being for any price! Not if my life depended on it!"

Ron shrugged. "Actually, I'm okay with it."

Roy stared, shocked, at his nephew. "You're…you're…**okay** with it? Did you…go downstairs? For the yearly conversation?"

Ron nodded. "Yes."

Roy was aghast. "You **listened**? To…**It**? To…**Her**?"

And Roy remembered the conversation he had with Sensei Yoriko-sama years before.

"_You have served well in the capacity of Hachisu Ky__ō__shi, Elroy-san. You have stood in the gap that resulted when your mother destroyed destiny's fabric. You have no need to feel ashamed."_

"_But…Kansumi-sama…my Sensei. I __**do **__feel ashamed. I never took a wife. I never even bothered to search. I was determined that no child of mine should suffer what my brother and I suffered…to be fated to be the guard of Kim Possible. And now I realize how selfish I was. My brother found a woman willing to share that fate. Lorrie Mankey-san consented to marry Lon and bear his children…knowing that one of them might have to face the Creature. And now my sister's son is condemned to the fate that should be mine._

_Say not 'condemned'. For karma is karma. Rather say, 'ordained'. You know of how deeply I loved your father from the first moment I beheld him."_

"_Yes, Sensei."_

"_I had hoped it to be his wife…even after the disappearance of Kimberly Possible-san. I would have been deeply honored to have you as a son. But that was not my karma. I was ready to relegate myself to lifelong spinsterhood, even as you consign yourself to a bleak lifelong bachelorhood. But your father, on his deathbed, prevailed upon me to marry and bear children. Such love he had for you."_

"_Yes, Sensei."_

"_Tell me, Elroy-san…what was the byword of Kim Possible-san in the days of her humanity? Before the fearful change?"_

"_Um…let me recall…she used to say, 'I can do anything.' "_

"_Even so. I once told her that I felt Stoppable-san was her destiny. The designs of Heaven are not thwarted. A union of the lineage of Stoppable and the lineage of Possible has taken place. And a child of that union will become the Yamauchi no eraba reta. The Chosen of Yamanouchi. His will be a strong karma. He will not be as other men. He will do great deeds. He will surpass you and your brother and your father. He will surpass me. He will be the equal of Kimberly Possible-san. As it was my honor to teach your brother and you, it will be my honor to teach him. And until it becomes his honor to stand and fulfill his destiny, it will be your honor to maintain the lonely vigil. Do you understand, my _

_Elroy-san?"_

"_Yes, my Sensei."_

Roy remembered his own reaction when he heart the awful secret. His mother's cold-blooded murder plot. The Halloween of horror when a gruesome walking corpse tried to butcher them all. He vomited. And fainted. And woke drenched in a cold sweat. When he figured out he was in his own room, he fled the house, almost in an animal panic. He wanted to move in immediately with his grandparents Stoppable. Or his grandmother Regina King. Or grandfather Templeton King and second wife Sylvia.

It wasn't until Lon summoned the magic sword of Yamanouchi and assured his brother that all the Stoppable children now possessed the same mystical abilities that Roy would even begin to think about stepping on the property. He begged them never to tell his little sister.

Roy stared at his nephew. The kid was calm. Even steely-eyed. His

Sensei's words were true.

_His will be a strong karma. He will not be as other men. He will do great deeds. _

But what kind of deeds…that remained to be seen. Roy suddenly felt a nagging dread in the pit of his stomach. Suddenly he wasn't so sure he understood the full import of Sensei's words.

_**to be continued**_


	20. Chapter 20 her son, home to stay

I hit another roadblock. It has to do with my obsessive compulsion with realism. How will life be in 2070? The politics, the climate, the technology. What kind of cars, phones, clothes, etc.

As a kid, I used to watch Hanna-Barberra's The Jetsons. It was the space-age equivalent of The Flintstones. It purported to portray life a hundred years in the future…which, reckoning from the late 1960's when it was telecast, would be just about the time period of A Heroine's Legacy. I've Googled for futurological prognostication (a phrase both tongue-twisting and redundant). FutureTimeline-dot-net presents a grim picture. The disappearance of rain forests, mass species extinction, and millions of people dead as a result of climate change. War with China.

Shows like The Fifth Element, Back To The Future, Minority Report, I, Robot, and the Star Trek programs have made their various conjectures. When I was a kid, futurologists predicted that by Y2K, we would have flying cars, picture phones, colonies on the moon, a predominance of nuclear power plants, a four-day workweek, prefab homes, household robots, synthesized music, synthesized food, and…you'll love this…disposable paper clothes. Now…we have some of those…kinda. But some other things have been kind of a bust.

I still get a rush from remembering something that happened in the mid-1990's. We took a trip to Disney World, and I had to explain to my then-preteen kids that the Flash Gordon-looking buildings in the futuristic part of the Magic Kingdom was what people thought the future would look like when I was their age. My kids looked at me like I was talking gibberish and my wife just rolled her eyes.

So I'm going out on a limb. I'm going to say the world of fifty or sixty years from now will still be quite recognizable. No treadmill sidewalks, like the Jetsons. No food replicators, like Star Trek. No flying cars, like The Jetsons, Fifth Element, et. al. Maybe some household robots. And retinal scan; like in Minority Report. And daccu's story, Family Legacy.

As for the awful calamities on nature and humanity? Let's hope, people. And pray. But who knows?

At the onset of the twentieth century, the automobile and telephone were brand new. Electricity was being harnessed. There was antibiotics. And anesthesia. And mechanized farming. The airplane, radio, X-ray, and nuclear reactors were on the horizon. The future looked full of hope. But Marxism arose. And Nazism. And AIDS. And still more wars and disasters. And millions of hapless humans did not die old and full of years in bed.

Now…about my story format; Rye-bread is trying something different again; jumping around the years within one chpt, tossing characters, names, and events at his reader.

Is the reader confused between First Kim, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Dr. P. and Second Kim, daughter of Tara? Because one is born a Possible and the other marries a Possible, so they have the same last name.

Is the reader likewise confused between First Ron owner of Rufus, Second Ron, son of Tim the Tweeb, and Third Ron, the son of Second Ron and grandson of First Ron? I am, too. It's all (snicker) daccu65's fault with his original story, Family Legacy. Ah, what the heck; I'll take my lumps, too. I know I'm not helping when I jump back and forth between the generations. I'll try leaving little clues, like "Kim Possible née Stoppable".

Kudos and shoutouts; the Kosher Katering segment is inspired by my coworker at the pizza shop…who has no idea the guy twice his age is into fan-fiction. My dignity and self-image are already suffering enough. The Granna, Grimpy, and Zimmie-cub segment is inspired by my man whitem, who PM'ed me about the picture of Kim and Ron in the K.P. STD episode…and had no idea of the rich plot vein that would open up…kinda like my gal Alice Shade inspired my story A Barrier That Restrains.

_**back-story: Kosher Katering **_

_Ronald Eugene Stoppable tried his hand at different dining venues throughout the years. There was both fine dining and casual dining. There was even street vending. There was "Chez Ron's", "Le Ron's", "Ron-ster's", "Ron-dog's", and "Ron-man's". The one that really stuck was "Stoppable's Kosher Katering", whose advertising jingle was, __Oy! We Even Serve The Goy!_

_It was terribly kitschy. It made his parents, wife, and children cringe. Still, the clientele loved it. They faithfully maintained their patronage through all the ventures and incarnations._

_The business catered all settings and venues; small intimate dinner, large family reunion, and corporate banquet. Informal luncheon, tailgate picnic, and formal reception. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And he continued with a tradition begun in his senior year at high school, with his reign as Homecoming King; hosting meals for charity._

_He inducted each of his children into the trade. The one who really stuck with it was his youngest, his daughter, Kimberly Ann._

"_Kimmie-cub, you like helping me with making food and serving it, don't you?"_

"_Yes, Daddy, I do. A lot."_

"_What's your favorite part?"_

_The little girl pondered. "I think when I make the food, and later, when they thank us for a delicious meal."_

_Ron grinned. His little girl had the moxie; the right stuff. She was a true food prep pro. She had it in her veins._

"_Sweetie, this is where it happens…the kitchen. Now…can you tell me what the two toughest jobs in the kitchen are?"_

_She tilted her little blonde head and pondered some more. "Ummm…"_

_He smiled. "I'll tell you…setup and cleanup. The prep cook has to get all the food ready. Then the work area has to be set up. And at the end of the night, the mess has to be cleaned up. In every kitchen, the cook is at the top of the chain of command. Everyone around him or her has to work to support him or her, because he or she's the one who makes the meal the customer loves. And if the client's not happy, no one's happy. Do you hear what I'm saying?"_

_She nodded. "Yes, Daddy."_

"_Good girl. Today, we're going to grate cheese. And then later, we might make dough for our pizza, dumplings, and pasta, and batter for our crepes. And maybe even tomato sauce and ranch dressing. Now…what's the first thing we do when we work with food?"_

"_Wash our hands." She grinned, her freckled cheeks crinkling. This was as fun for her as electronic games were for her brothers._

_While they set up, they made small talk. "Kimmie…would you believe, when I worked fast food in high school, we would still wash dishes by hand?"_

_His little girl was appalled. Unless it were a single table setting, washing dishes by hand was akin to washing clothes by hand; like with a washboard and wringer._

_Their sleeves were rolled up, and they were attired in caps and aprons. He tested her food prep acumen. "Okay…what kind of cheese is this?"_

_She sniffed the block of cheese and regarded the color. "Mozzarella."_

"_And this?"_

"_Cheddar."_

_Ron puffed with pride. His little girl was a natural._

_He showed her how to set up the mechanical grater. "If we can, it's always better to make our stuff by hand. But sometimes, the volume of food we have to prepare doesn't let us do that." He fed the block of cheese into the chute, then showed her the grated cheese in the tub. "See? The faster we feed it into the machine, the longer pieces we get. For what we want, this is a good grate."_

"_Like Mommy's hair," said Kim simply._

_Ron nodded knowingly. Like his daughter's hair, also, he thought to himself. Their long curly pale gold tresses were their…and his…pride and joy. "And what's the first rule around moving machinery?"_

"_Safety."_

"_That's right. We don't want to serve grated hands and fingers to our customers."_

_She wrinkled her nose. "Ew! Daddy! That's just gross!"_

_And father and daughter nudged each other good-naturedly._

_Later, after the prep work was done, Kim tipped over some liter bottles of carbonated cola. "Daddy! I'm sorry!"_

_He shrugged. "No big, Kimmie-cub." As they straightened up the bottles, father nudged daughter again. "Kimmie-cub…you know what happens when you drop a bottle of soda and then open it…don't you?" asked Ron roguishly._

"_It fizzes all over," said Kim impishly._

_Each grinned deviously at the other, snatched up a bottle, shook it, cracked the seal, and immediately squared off._

_Father and daughter arrived home that night covered with white powder and sticky dried fluid._

_Tara sighed in dismay. "Not another food-and-flour fight," she groaned._

"_And soda pop, too," chimed father and daughter. They stared at each other and burst into laughter. "Jinx! You owe me __**another**__ soda!" they said simultaneously._

_Tara shook her head and smiled with weary resignation at her two guerilla food fighters, the biggest and littlest kids respectively in the Stoppable household._

_**back-story: Granna, Grimpy, and Zimmie-cub**_

_In 2021,Tara Stoppable gave birth to her and Ron's youngest child, a daughter. They named her after a dear departed family friend. Kimberly Anne Possible. Or, rather, Ron named her after his departed inamorata…the love of his life…his unspoken soul mate. And Tara tolerated it…with unspoken grudge. _

_Kim's parents, Mrs. and Mr. Dr. Possible, were deeply honored. After all, had not Tara set an honorary place for Kim at her and Ron's wedding reception in the backyard? An empty chair with a folded mission suit and a white ribbon at the bridal party table had been prepared. When that child was full-grown and wedded, she would observe the same custom…in the same backyard…under the new gazebo._

_In the same year, Karen Possible gave birth to her and Tim's firstborn, whom they named after their dear family friend and the Beloved of Tim's older departed sister, Ronald Eugene Stoppable. Little Ronnie Possible was Mrs. and Mr. Dr. P.'s first grandchild._

_Little Kimmie Stoppable had three grandmothers. Two were lineal; Regina King and Rachel Stoppable. The third was a grandmother of the heart, Anne Joan Possible. She was called Grandma Anna…or Nana Anna…or finally, "Granna". Granna gave little Kimmie Stoppable a gift; a precious bestowal. It was an old Panda-Roo CuddleBuddy, lovingly repaired after the damage caused by a Lowardian war machine. Kimmie knew her great-uncle Roland King worked for the CuddleBuddy Corporation, so it was a double treat. She deemed it "neat"._

_Her father Ron Stoppable protested. He knew the history of the little toy. He knew how its previous owner had treasured it. He knew what it meant for Mr. and Mrs. Dr. P. to give it away._

_Mrs. Dr. P. assured him it was for that reason that it was right to give it to the little girl. She slept with it, and loved it, and doted on it all her childhood days._

_Little Kimmie Stoppable and Ronnie Possible grew up the best of friends. In junior high school and high school, she was a cheerleader. In grade school, junior high, and high school, he was an all "A" student, member of the Chess Club, member of the yearbook staff, and member of the student council. Thus did they both mirror the lives of their namesakes, and reflect the traits of their families._

_In the summer of 2046, those two children married. Kimberly Anne Stoppable became Mrs. Ronald Eugene Possible. Mrs. and Mr. Dr. Possible took the wife of their grandson to their bosoms. A Kim Possible once again lived to receive the love of a grief-stricken couple, who had never recovered from the tragic loss of their eldest child._

_In the late November of that year, Kim's father sadly died in his sleep. Kim was already pregnant._

_In 2047, Kim gave birth to her firstborn. She named him Ronald, and added the name Zimmer, after the Possible family progenitor, Colonel Zimm Possible, an officer in General George Washington's Continental Army._

_Mr. Dr. P. was delighted. The child was the only great-grandson he would ever live to see. He would lift the infant up and call him "My little Zimmie-cub", and the infant would gurgle with delight._

_When he was old enough to talk, little Ronald Zimmer began calling his great-grandfather "Grimpy", and his great-grandmother "Granna". The "Granna" name was taught to him by his mother, but he came up with the "Grimpy" name on his own._

_His mother was embarrassed and tried to correct her son, but Mr. Dr. P. would have none of it. He loved the name._

_They tried to figure out how the boy had concocted the word. The only conclusion they could come to was that "Grimpy" was a child's rendering of the phrase. "Grandfather James Timothy Possible"._

_Whatever it was, Mr. and Mrs. Dr. P. loved their little Zimmie-cub. And little Ronald Zimmer Possible loved his Grimpy and Granna._

_Again, the happy time was all too brief. Before he entered kindergarten, Ron's Grimpy and Granna were gone. He would remember for the rest of his life his _

_Granna's closing moments. She clutched a picture frame to her breast and murmured over and over a single name…"Kimmie…Kimmie…"_

"_Ronnie…Granna's in heaven with Grimpy," explained his mother. _

_Ronnie nodded. He understood. Their departure hit him hard. But his faith was profound for his age. He knew he would see them again when it was someday his turn to depart this life. But he was puzzled. He thought his mother was the only "Kim". So he asked, "Mommy…who's the 'Kimmie' Granna was talking about?"_

_And Kimberly Anne Possible née Stoppable showed her son the picture._

_Ronnie was stunned. For two reasons. The first was, the boy in the picture mugging for the camera and holding up the two-fingered peace sign looked just like him, with sandy yellow hair, cowlick, freckles, stickout ears, and goofy grin. "Mommy…that looks like me."_

_The second reason was…well…the girl with the freckles and braces on her teeth. She didn't look at the camera. Instead, she looked endearingly at the boy, and had her arm around the boy's shoulders. The boy had his arm around her waist. . She was…she had…it was…something about her._

_Was it the emerald eyes? The fiery hair? Ronnie could not begin to articulate what drew his attention, like the magnetic north attracts a compass needle. It was something compelling. An indefinable quality._

"_That boy was my daddy, Ronnie," said his mother. He died before you were born."_

_This was like a revelation to the little boy. Parents and grandparents were perpetually adults, for all of recorded history, as far as he could conceive. That he had an unknown twin of a previous generation was akin to discovering life on another world. "Who's the girl?" he asked next._

_Her answer unlocked a vast realm. "That was the first Kim Possible…Granna and Grimpy's little girl. Grandpa Tim's and Great-uncle Jim's older sister. She was a superhero, and your grandpa Ron was his partner."_

_Young Ronald Zimmer Possible felt like David the shepherd boy felt when the prophet Samuel anointed him king…like young Arthur felt when he drew the sword Excalibur from the stone. His mother related the adventures of Team Possible: Kim, Ron, Rufus, and Wade, and unfolded to him an epic to rival the epics of the Knights of the Round Table, Robin Hood, the Odyssey, and Beowulf._

_That there was another Ron made a deep impression. That there was another Kim made an impression akin to a chasm of unfathomable depth. That she participated in feats of such remarkable daring, and was endowed with such remarkable audacity, and even such remarkable physical attributes as the vivid hair and eyes caused her to assume mythic proportions in his regard of her. He grew up feeling like it was her…the Heroine…standing by his side…with her arm around his shoulders and her endearing gaze upon him._

_Her tragic disappearance and death when she was only eighteen years old added a sad and unresolved note to the classic tale. He hoped he could one day redress the karmic balance by saving someone else. He hoped he would someday meet someone like her…_

_**A HEROINE'S LEGACY**_

_**chpt 20**_

_**her son; home to stay**_

_**November 2, 2070**_

After breakfast and cleanup, Kim Possible clapped her hands twice. "Okay! The Stoppable Shuttle is departing! All aboard!"

"I'm staying behind, Kimmie," said Roy. "I want to visit with Mariko-san and catch up on the news at school." As a Yamanouchi alumnus, he maintained close ties with Yoriko-sama, Hirotaka-sama, and the other personnel.

"Me, too, Aunt Kim," said Carl. He had decided to accede to his father Lon's wish to maintain family tradition and apply for admission to the ninja training school. He also wanted to ask Mari if she had any sisters…or perhaps even any friends. The local girls suddenly seemed to pale in comparison with Mariko Kansumi.

Tara gave her daughter a hearty hug. "Thank you for making breakfast, dear. It was delicious."

Ron gazed thoughtfully at cousin Carl. He now saw the need for the family's perpetual connection with the ninja training school. The Stoppable descendants who had the Mystical Monkey Power also needed the training, in case the formidable and dreadful Prisoner were to ever escape. There was also an element of pity. What awaited Carl was the same experience already undergone by Roy, Lon, and Ron himself; to hear the horrific tale and listen to the ghastly voice of Kim Possible, she who was interred and interned beneath the gazebo.

Ron loved Carl dearly. Carl was the living image of great-grandfather Abel Stoppable, as Ron himself was the living image of grandfather Ron Stoppable. Carl had Abel's shorter stockier build, his warm heart, his head for figures, his temperate voice, and even his tendency for tasteful casual attire.

Carl also possessed an artistic gift; like his grandfather Josh Mankey. It was said, in a good way, Carl had not a serious bone in his body. He had a gracious wit without being foolish or inappropriate.

Kim Possible née Stoppable took her son Ron's arm as they walked out to the car. Ron grinned at the sight. It was the old Roth S L Coupe; the 'Sloth', still running after almost a century since its original production. It was the first car owned James Timothy Possible, the legendary Mr. Dr. P., whom Ronald Zimmer had called 'Grimpy' when he was a toddler. First the Tweebs, and then Kim's husband had kept it in good working order.

"Are we going to the Emporium?" he asked,

She nodded. "Of course. Where else is there to go in the Tri-City area that has decent bulk food?"

The Middleton Pickle Works Emporium was housed in the old Pickle Works building complex. It had begun decades ago as a weekly trade fair, craft show, and farmers' market. Produce was sold and exhibitors displayed their wares. After the Pickle Works went out of business, the Emporium continued to flourish. Vendors large and small sold their goods. In a time when ordering online was becoming universal, the Emporium hearkened back to an earlier time. Brown paper bags that would biodegrade into compost were even available.

Before he got in the car, his mother gave him a mighty hug. She sighed deeply. "Your grandmother told me she wanted to see you privately your first day home," she murmured, "But today, you're all mine. My boy…my firstborn…is home. I'm claiming a mother's right." She glanced up at her taller son and smiled. "I hope your girlfriend doesn't mind."

Ron shrugged and smiled. "I'm sure Mari won't mind. She'll monopolize me tonight."

Kim fussed over her son, straightening his collar and his hair. "I could swear you've grown, Ronnie. Oh, my; I haven't seen you since last Christmas. We've even missed your birthday. Your grandfather, God rest him, hardly ever purchased new clothes. He had a closet full of old red jerseys that all looked alike. And you just wear these baggy bowling shirts over and over. And your hair looks like it was cut with a pinking shears."

Ron grinned. "Hey, Mom…it's like Grandpa used to say…he didn't follow trends. He started them."

Kim smiled sadly. "That's true. Dad was a lot of things. Dressing in current style wasn't one of them. Want to drive the car, Ronnie?"

"Me? Drive the Sloth? Your baby? I'm flattered, Mom; but I'll just let you drive and look at the scenery." There was something about the way his mother acted. "Mom…you seem kind of sad. Is everything okay?"

Kim sighed. "Maybe later, Ronnie. I just want to enjoy the moment right now."

Ron savored the scenery as Kim drove. "Gosh…it's good to be back in Middleton on the fall. You can just feel the holidays coming."

Kim glanced at him and smiled. "Isn't the prefecture you lived in like Colorado, with the weather?" Kimberly Ann Possible, née Stoppable, daughter of Tara René and Ronald Eugene Stoppable, had her father's eyes, freckles, and hair color. She had her mother's hair texture, and , fortunately, her mother's ears.

Ron shrugged. "Well…yes…but…it's not the **same**, Mom. Like…for example…Mount Yamanouchi has this marvelous fortress that's a spectacular example of ancient Japanese Kofun period architecture…and the most well-stocked library on philosophy I've ever seen. But Mount Middleton has the ski lodge…and the observatory…and I can see the lights of home from the top."

Kim laughed. When her son embarked on one of his overeducated explanations, it was best just to listen and not try to comprehend it completely. "Say no more. I get it. It's home, and home always has a certain quality that you can't put your finger on. So…what's it like to be the Lotus Master?"

Ron shrugged again. "It's…well…it's…an honor. It's also a heavy responsibility."

"Did they have a ceremony? Like a graduation? Or the King of England knighting somebody?"

Ron's face furrowed. "Not quite the pomp. It was more…simple. Typically Japanese. All the students and instructors were gathered; someone struck a gong. Sensei stood up and recited the history of the school and the whole succession of Lotus Masters, starting with the founder. Then she presented me with the Lotus Blade and they all gave a banzai shout."

"It sounds impressive. I wish your dad and I could've been there."

"The secrecy thing is still pretty important. We recorded it, though. We're at least that modern."

"I'm looking forward to seeing it, then."

"So, Mom…how's Dad? And Sis?"

"Your father's at the observatory. And your sister's up at Uncle Slim's."

"Sis at the Lazy C Ranch?"

Kim nodded. "Uh huh. She's helping out with…things."

Ron digested this news. His father was the director of the Robert Chen Center for Study and Research, housed in the old Mount Middleton observatory. It was named for the colleague of James Timothy Possible, his 'Grimpy'. The optical telescope in the observatory was over a hundred years old, long since rendered obsolete by modern instrumentation, but still open for public tours.

But his sister up at the Lazy C Ranch, in Thornbush Creek, Montana…there was something here that wasn't being told. He wouldn't press the issue. Mom would unfold the news in her own good time.

Kim drove the Sloth manually until they left the immediate residential area. Then she engaged the autodrive. It was now tuned into the Traffic Web and would drive itself until it reached the selected destination…or until the aurodrive was disengaged.

"So, Mom," asked Ron, winking, what else is s going on with the folks here in Middleton?"

"Well…Bonnie Flagg is single again."

That was sad to hear. She had married Brick Flagg after Señor Senior, Jr. had broken up with her. They had a single daughter, Francis, or Frankie, as she was called. Then Brick was killed in a Middle Eastern war.

Bonnie had married again. Another old classmate. Ronald Rieger. That had stemmed from an unfortunate episode in high school. Ron Rieger set up the computer system for voting for the 2006 Middleton High Homecoming King and Queen. Bonnie Rockwaller had made a deal with him to steal the vote; she slept with him. Oddly, then, he was the one she turned to for solace after Brick's death.

Bonnie's moral fiber had grown through her lifetime of loss. Ron's had not. His life was a series of petty jobs and petty cyber crime. His first wife had left him. His children Brian and Betty were likewise troubled. Bonnie found, at least in this instance, a little loneliness was worth shedding the anxiety.

Kim continued. "And Aunt Shego wants very much to see you. Mr. Barkin's had a severe onset of dementia in the past year. He lives in the time when Grandma and Grandpa Stoppable were his students in high school. I've been to visit him. He keeps confusing me with Grandma. He missed your grandpa and Grandpa's high school girlfriend…your great-aunt Kim. He complains that 'Life at Middleton High is boring without Possible and Stoppable.' He keeps threatening to put them in detention for a month and to make Grandpa crabwalk twenty laps. Your Grandpa Possible and Uncle Jim went to see him last week. He said he was glad the 'Possibles Squared' were his students, and he was willing to even overlook them disintegrating his car two times in a row."

Ron looked forward to seeing Aunt Shego again. Not really a biological relative, she had comforted the Stoppable and Possible families after the disappearance her former enemy and the family heroine, Mr. and Mrs. Dr. P.'s daughter. And they had comforted her after the death of her first husband, Dr. Lipsky. Steve Barkin also consoled her…and courted her. She consented to be both his wife and an instructor for the Middleton Public Schools.

It was sad to hear about Mr. Barkin. He had taught two generations of Stoppable and Possible children. He had retired from his position as district athletic director before Ron started school. He still attended all the games. He was the Maddogs' biggest booster. He cut an unmistakable figure, with his broad-shouldered frame, enthusiastic gestures, bellowing shouts,…and unconventional exclamations.

"_Cheese And Crackers! He's open! Throw the pass!"_

_._

"_Sweet Lady Gridiron! You call __**that**__ a defense? They walked all over you! The Cheer Squad could do better!"_

"_Great Neptune's Gills! That's the way to score! Now that's what I'm talking about!"_

And while the Possibles might call her "Aunt Shego", no one would even **think** of calling him "Uncle Steve" under **any **circumstance. He was "Coach". Or "Mr. Barkin". Or just "Sir".

They arrived at the Pickle Works Emporium and began strolling through the concourse.

Now, " Kim grinned. "Tell me about…Mariko."

Ron smiled bashfully, "There's not much to say, Mom. She's Sensei's daughter. She and her parents have all been my instructors for the past five years."

Kim winked. "The headmistress's daughter, eh? Tell me…is she…the 'one'?"

Ron hemmed and hawed. "Well…we haven't really talked…but we've known for a long time that we're more than…uh…just friends…"

"Hmm." Kim looked out of the corner of her eye. "Tell me," she said dryly, "How long is 'long'?"

"About three years."

"Three **years**? And you two haven't said **anything**?"

"Mom…she's been my **tutor**! Ninjitsu is all about discipline. It's sort of awkward dating someone who's teaching you fight with stealth. Besides…Sensei was always telling me not to get distracted."

"Hmm. You bring up a couple good points. But…you're graduated now, so…what's been happening?"

"Well…last night I did mention Grandma's wedding in the back yard…and your and Dad's wedding in the back yard. And that sort of led to a…hypothetical discussion…"

"Ronnie!" yelped his mother. "She came here from Japan! Does that tell you **nothing**?"

Ron laughed and threw up his hands. "You're right. I guess we're serious."

"And if you tell me 'Note Serious Face,' I'll…I'll tell your father to send you to someplace 'Black Hold Deep'!" Kim growled. "Grrr! Men! Your Granna Possible used to tell me how flustered people would get at your Grandpa Ron! It took **him** five years to propose to your grandma! Now **listen**! Procrastination is congenital in the Stoppable family! It was my father's and brothers' inherited disorder! And apparently my son's! Now here's what we're going to do! I'm going to plan a big homecoming for you…and I think that would be a wonderful opportunity to announce your engagement. I'll even give you a couple weeks to pop the question. I can already tell by looking at her what her answer will be. That'll certainly be better than the traditional family practice of doing some big thing like a relocation…or an adoption…or a wedding…and then saying to people, _'This __**is**__ our way of telling you about it!'_ Now get on the ball! You don't want to lose this girl!"

Ron chuckled. His mother had a point. She had summed up the habitual family dysfunction perfectly.

Kim pointed. "Look! The baked goods! I need to stop there!"

And while she looked over their selection, she continued. "That reminds me…Mona Sheldon misses that dish you make; Lemon Strudel German Chocolate Torte. She made me promise to get you to make some when you got home."

Mona and Gary Sheldon were Tara's neighbors. Gary's parents were Mary Giereanu, Tara's classmate in high school, and George Sheldon, an upperclassman who worked at Bueno Nacho. And the Lemon Strudel German Chocolate Torte was Ron Possible's specialty. It was a blend of two recipes; Nana Possible's lemon squares and Ron Stoppable's Seven Layers Of Heaven chocolate cake.

"Yep. I met a Sheldon girl a couple nights ago. She was a trick-or-treater, and appeared on Grandma's porch dressed up as Kim Possible…before I took Grandma to the…hospital. She was an excellent helper yesterday in the kitchen." Ron had to watch what he said. Suzie Sheldon's Kim Possible costume was the _reason_ for Tara's trip to the hospital.

Kim smiled. "Oh, yes. That would be Suzie. Peggy and Geoffrey's daughter. She's wanted to meet you forever. She was only a toddler when you left for Japan." Kim did not interrogate her son about the trip to the emergency room.

Ron had to wonder at the ferocious irony of it all. He and Suzie had indeed "met". It was a bombshell of a meeting. And Suzie had now thoroughly wheedled herself into "Mr. Ron's" life with big-eyed infatuation.

Kim steered the conversation toward a more motherly topic. "Ronnie…your father and I have done some checking. There are vacancies for teaching and research assistants, office personnel, and tutors at local schools in the Tri-City area…both grade schools and high schools…and even the private schools and colleges. I'm sure they'd take someone with your credentials in a minute. And if you couldn't find something, I'm sure your grandmother would put you up indefinitely."

"Or put up **with** me?" jibed Ron.

They both laughed.

"And your father and I would help you in any way we could," continued Kim.

They concluded their business at the Emporium. Kim submitted her orders for Kosher Katering and they got the staples for Tara's cupboards. They were on their way back to the Sloth, Kim with a bagful of groceries and Ron with three bags. The mood grew noticeably more serious.

As they loaded up the car, Ron decided to broach a sensitive topic. He slowly began. "Mom…I couldn't help but notice…Uncle Lon didn't show up this morning with you and Uncle Roy. Carl even came…but not Uncle Lon."

Kim's face fell. "I don't know what your grandmother told you, Ronnie…but she's not the only one with family secrets. You're old enough now to hear…some things."

"Tell me, Mom, " said Ron encouragingly. "I'm as good a keeper of secrets about the family as I am about ninja schools."

Kim blinked sadly. "Something happened when I was nine years old. And as much as I can tell, it happened on Halloween. I was with your dad's family at the Scare For Care…Granna and Grimpy's yearly fundraiser at the medical center. Something happened at home between my parents. Lon was there, too. They tried to hide it, but I could tell. Things weren't…the same." She looked up with anxious gaze. "I grew up with people who were crazy in love, Ronnie. People like Granna and Grimpy. I knew what troubled marriages looked. Betty and Brian Rieger had this perpetual shell-shocked look. It took me a while to pick up on…but there was a change in my family. And once I saw it, I could see it was like day and night.

"My older brother would hardly talk to my mother. He treated her with respect…'cause Dad set that bar really high. But when he left for Yamanouchi, he never spent a night in our house again. He was around for my graduation…and my wedding…and his own wedding…and your grandfather's final illness…but…but…" Kim began to weep.

Ron put an arm around her shoulders.

"I'm…I'm okay, Ronnie. But I asked Roy if he knew anything. But he was in the dark as me…until a few years later. Suddenly he froze Mom out. It happened after he got home from Yamanouchi. It isn't as bad as Lon…Roy at least stayed in the same house with her."

Ron held the passenger door open for her. "I can drive home, Mom," he said gently.

She nodded. "Thank you, Ronnie. And…I'm glad you brought this up. There's a reason we're trying to help you get settled back in at Middleton. Things are…unsettled. I know Mom says she's okay, but…" She sniffled and blew her nose…and suddenly grew indignant.

This makes me mad, Ronnie! Things have been hidden from me all my life. Dad hid the secret of his life as a hero before he married Mom. They hid the existence of this secret ninja school. And I can see the reason why. My brothers hid from me that fact that my parents' marriage was in trouble. And everybody hid the reason why from me. Now Mom's trying to hide the truth from me about how bad she really is! Dammit, Ronnie, I'm sick of it! It's all such shit!" And for Kim to swear was a thing almost unheard of.

"You're hiding things, too. I know you are. It's because you're sworn to silence. I understand. Maybe you even know why my parents fell out of love. Maybe she told you whatever dark family secret is eating her up. But I hope you'll forgive my outburst. And I hope…and I hope…" Kim began to lose her composure again.

Yes, Mom," said Ron. "Your 'outburst' is forgotten. And I still love Grandma Tara. Maybe now more than ever. Yes, she told me a few things. But it hasn't changed anything. I'm her grandson…and your son."

Kim dabbed her eyes. "Thank you, Ronnie." She hugged his neck. "You don't know what it means to me to hear that from you. And there's Uncle Slim…"

"What about Uncle Slim?" asked Ron.

"To be frank," said Kim, "He's not doing well at all. I'm afraid it's almost his time, Ronnie. Please remember him in your prayers."

There. It had all come out…all the sorrow that was weighing down Kim's heart.

Ron's heart saddened. He loved Uncle Slim like a second father. The old cowboy was the last survivor of that generation. All the others were gone. He still mourned the death of his only daughter.

What was more, the tragic deed of Tara King on that day of June, 2007 had tragic repercussions these many years later. The lives of Lon, Roy, and Kim were all cruelly scarred as a result of the night of horror, on the Halloween of 2030.

Kim sighed. "I'm worried, Ronnie. First Uncle Slim, and then your grandmother. When I lost my dad, it was just around this time of year. If I lost Mom…I don't know if I could stand it. You're the…" She looked at him with a frank expression. "I know you're the successor to my father and your two uncles. I'll confess, Ronnie. I don't understand entirely all the mystical heritage...all the business with the ninja way of life. I know you've inherited the role of some kind of secret warrior. But if at all possible, please stay home for a while. Please don't go off on too many save-the-world missions. I…your grandma and me…we all need you here badly."

The son hugged the mother. "I promise you, Mom…on my honor as a member of Family Possible and Family Stoppable…I'm around for the long haul."

The mother again returned the hug and wept tears of relief. "Thank you, Ronnie."

Ron sighed to himself. Grandpa hated irony. And this sitch was imbued with irony. He would indeed be staying home for a while. This would now be his primary world-saving role. To guard the undead monster that his Aunt Kim had become. To protect his family and the world from the walking Izanami

It had been a year since he was last home. The city of Middleton still looked the same…from the outer viewpoint. But things had changed radically from an inner perception

First was the shock of the family legacy: the imprisonment of Kim Possible. Second was the tragic disunity of the family…occasioned, of course, by

Tara's murder attempt.

Lon had in effect boycotted his mother. Not even a visit since the death of his father. And perhaps not even a visit for her death.

His mother Kim was acutely aware of the hostility. But not the reason why. And she, like him, sensed Tara's tenuous condition. His grandmother might soon depart. And now his beloved Uncle Slim might be in his final illness

It all contrasted so markedly with the joy of being home. Of having Mariko visit.

How could a human heart resolve such conflicting emotions, such joy and tragedy? How could he emotionally support all those who needed him, all those who bore such disabling sadness and injury, both seen and unseen? Not to mention the keeping of his vow. To try and free his heroine, his Aunt Kim. How could he, like his Heroine, save such a hurting world?

He needed to be alone. To prepare himself mentally and spiritually for the encounter. Any here were all the distractions. How could he do justice to all these factors competing for his attention and not break someone's heart?

His Redeemer's own Words came to his heart. Come to Me, all who labor and are heavily laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you, and learn of Me, for I am meek and lowly in heart, and you shall find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy, and My burden is light._ Matthew 11:28_

He must retreat to his quiet place...to his inner sanctuary

As an old hymn once stated. I come to the garden alone / While the dew is still on the roses / And the voice I hear falling on my ear / The Son of God discloses.  


He speaks, and the sound of His voice, / Is so sweet the birds hush their singing, / And the melody that He gave to me / Within my heart is ringing.

And He walks with me, and He talks with me, / And He tells me I am His own; / And the joy we share as we tarry there, / None other has ever known.

__His faith would guide him. His Savior would guide him. Through the words of Scripture. Through the teachings of his elders, both his parents and his

Sensei. And through the holy innermost urges.

_**to be continued**_

A/N

Whew. We've updated some char's…and introduced some other char's…and brewed some situations. We've got some goods on Bonnie, Shego, Mr. Barkin, Uncle Slim, and Ron Rieger. Dr. Bob Chen has been memorialized. The Sloth, Panda-Roo, and the Middleton Pickle Works have new leases on life. And who am I to mock Middleton's proud pickle heritage?

And Ronald Zimmer Possible, aka Zimmie-cub (is that nickname corny, or what?) has…a sister? Honest to goodness, she just popped up in my head. I don't even have a name for her yet. I do know she's embraced the Jewish faith of her maternal grandfather's family…as opposed to her brother's Christian faith. That much the plot bunny has allowed me to know. You other fan-writers…y'all know what I mean. Sometimes we don't determine the plot. The plot determines itself, and we have to follow suit.

Brian and Betty, children of Ron Reiger, are the creation of daccu65...as was the entire premise of this interminable tale.

The hymn lyrics to In The Garden are by C. Austin Miles


End file.
